In Search of Okay

This morning, as I lay in bed far past usual, with the sunlight spilling into the room, my mind circled around a familiar yet complicated idea of being okay. What does it really mean to be okay, to be alright? Not in the way we toss it around in passing conversations, but in the quiet, honest places within ourselves. On the path I’ve chosen — this project-based, often unpredictable existence as an artist, I find myself constantly moving between points — this project, that commission, this opportunity, that possibility. And in every moment, I realize I’m often searching for a position where I can quietly say to myself, I’m okay. Not necessarily victorious. Not defeated. Just okay. Okay with where I am, or where I thought I’d be by now. It’s a constant negotiation between expectation and acceptance.

When we meet people, we ask how they’re doing. “I’m okay.” “I’m alright.” Simple words that cover so much. Sometimes they’re true. Sometimes they’re placeholders. And sometimes, they’re shields we use to keep the deeper, heavier parts at bay. Lately, I’ve started to wonder — what do I mean when I say I want to be okay? Is it peace? Is it progress? Is it simply a quiet wrinkle in time where everything doesn’t feel like it’s pressing in? Am I hoping for a point in my life, or my work, where I can be completely alright with what is? And if so… does that place even exist, or are we forever chasing it, catching only glimpses as it moves just out of our reach?

I’m learning that maybe okay isn’t a permanent destination. Maybe it’s a fleeting pause — a breath — a fragile alignment between what’s happening around me and what’s happening within me. It’s the moment I stop measuring, stop chasing, and simply allow myself to be. Today, I’m in search of an okay that may not be a finish line or a reward, but a quiet, honest moment where I can say to myself, I’m alright… as I am, right here, right now. And maybe for today, that’s enough. So if you find yourself searching too, know that sometimes, okay isn’t a place you arrive at — it’s a moment you allow.