Repair Shop – Are You Okay?
By now the presidential debate between Kamala Harris and Tr*mp has been well-dissected. Kamala Harris closed her comments saying among other things, this:
“I'll tell you, I started my career as a prosecutor. I was a D.A. I was an attorney general. A United States senator. And now vice president. I've only had one client. The people. And I'll tell you, as a prosecutor I never asked a victim or a witness are you a Republican or a Democrat. The only thing I ever asked them, are you okay? And that's the kind of president we need right now. Someone who cares about you and is not putting themselves first.”
(From the transcripts found on ABC News).
Maybe this simple question will change the world. In her book Welcoming the Unwelcome, Pema Chödrön notes how important it is to “listen deeply and without judgement when people speak about their experiences and their suffering.” She says, “What has been dysfunctional does need to be openly addressed.” Asking, “are you okay?” is an acknowledgement, it is a question of care, and while a simple question, there is courage in it. There is the implication that there will be follow through.
In my own life, I think I have asked the question in my line of work/day job thousands of times. To make sure someone sleeping isn’t having a medical crisis, it’s necessary to wake them up. Next, you’ll ask, are you okay? The person will be groggy often, so follow up is necessary. Are you feeling well? Are you sure? Do you need medical attention? And often you’re repeating the question, are you okay? Sometimes this is all that’s required. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Sometimes other avenues must be followed depending on the situation. All day long we’re asking people, are you okay? We’re saying, all good? We’re taking a moment and making sure, we’re saying, how goes? We’re asking, you’re cool? All well? We are reiterating, you sure you’re good? you’re good right? We’re saying, just so long as you’re cool, it’s cool, yah.
Maybe because I ask the question a lot at work, I tend to carry it around with me. I’m always asking my loved ones, are you okay? I’m asking, how are you? and there’s an intensity to what seems a throwaway question these last years. I know some people complain about that question, how are you? It can be a terrible question depending, or a real one. However it’s answered, one can look for clues: coherence, breathing, dullness, annoyance, sincerity, joking, politeness, sedity. All these tell a story and indicate wellness or unwellness or another state of being. The answer doesn’t matter per se, though it can matter.
For the last couple of years I have gone in and out of a rather dark depression. I think I’m okay now. But I have joked that when someone has asked me how I am or if I’m okay, that I have about 6 different answers minimum depending on how well I know the person, how vulnerable or open I feel, how trusted the person is, how I actually am vs how I want to be that day, how receptive I think the person is, how much capacity I think the person might have for my bullshit, how much capacity I have for my bullshit, on and on etc.
I’ve recently been reading the cool book The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig. He became quite well-known when he shared this word and his poetic definition on his blog:
“Sonder: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.”
It seems like this is something one might like to carry around in one’s head as one asks, are you okay?
I have dipped in and out of the book during my morning reading sessions and happened to at one point skip to the end. And in large letters on page 155 pops the word:
“O.K.”
Koenig says, “According to linguists, that is the most commonly understood word in the world, the closest thing we have to a master key. The only problem with that is, well, nobody seems to know what those two letters are supposed to stand for.” No one knows what the origin of the word is. He says, “Nobody knows for sure, and we may never know. But somehow it doesn’t matter.” This not knowing, he says for a dictionary, “is a reminder to stay humble.”
The question I was obsessed with thinking about when writing my novel Rumi and the Red Handbag was “What are you going through?” (Which ended up being the title for a book by Sigrid Nunez).( My book came out in 2015 and hers 2019 I believe — which is fine because they are nothing alike).
The question comes from the Grail quest. The grail, says Simone Weil, “belongs to the first comer who asks the guardian of the vessel, a king three-quarters paralyzed by the most painful wound, “What are you going through?” She says, that being able to ask the question indicates the “love of our neighbour in all its fullness.” The sufferer was “one day stamped with a special mark by affliction. For this reason it is enough, but it is indispensable, to know how to look at him in a certain way.” And, “this way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth. Only he who is capable of attention can do this.”
Joseph Campbell describes the quest thus:
“Parzifal makes two visits to the Grail Castle. The first is a failure. The Grail King is a wounded man, whose nature has been broken by castration in a battle. Parzifal spontaneously wishes to ask him, “What is wrong?” But then, he has been told that a knight does not ask questions, and so, in order to preserve the image of himself as a noble knight, he restrains his natural impulse of compassion, and the Grail quest fails.”
The trick of the Grail Quest, is that, according to Campbell, “It is an immediate participation in the suffering of another to such a degree that you forget yourself and your own safety and spontaneously do what’s necessary.” The question is not withheld; the question is spontaneous. The question leads to participation.
What’s interesting about the questions: are you okay? and what are you going through? is that there are a lot of obstacles often in our way. Sometimes they are perceived obstacles. But often our own state of mind comes into play, our own circumstances. Our immediate level of safety is a real concern. Our relationship with the sufferer, the power structures around a relationship, these affect our ability to ask the question and to be attentive to the answer in the sense that Weil indicates. The questions sound so simple but rarely is any interaction with another human simple.
I like that Kamala Harris voiced the question, are you okay? And that the word o.k. or okay is the most commonly understood word in the world. We need to meet somewhere and maybe we could meet there. Okay? Also: I truly hope you are okay.
Lastly, here are some of my possible answers when I am asked if I’m okay, and please feel free to add yours in the comments.
Are you okay?
No. Absolutely not. I will be. No thanks to you. Sometimes. By force of will. With great and astonishing effort. Because I hit the rocks. Because I have spent time extensively repairing my soul. Today, yes. Right now yes. Yes. I am always okay. I am always well. Will you accept a half-truth? I am quite okay. Quite well. Quite okay. You know, you know. Resounding yes. Not sure, are you? Are you?
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