The Three Gongs

Next time you hear one, send a little prayer

I debated whether I’d even do this. I’m not one for rituals, for performance — for standing in a room and asking to be watched. I didn’t think it was for me at all.

The first time, I heard it and sat in shock. It took me a moment to register what the sound even was — someone else’s gong, someone else’s moment, and still my whole body went still, recognizing, before I understood it, that this wasn’t an ending. It was a wakeup call, a rally cry — theirs, and without knowing it yet, mine too.

The second time, I was waiting to see my oncologist, upstairs next to the chemo ward, the day before my last round of chemo. And it felt different this time. I looked at the woman sitting next to me and I just started clapping and cheering. She smiled, and started doing the same. Neither of us knew who it was for. We didn’t need to. The sound was enough to answer for.

The man across from us asked what was going on. We told him: someone’s done their treatment. He lit up like it was his own. For a second, it was — and he joined the celebration.

Sitting there, clapping for a stranger, I decided. I didn’t need this to be a performance. I needed to take those good vibrations and send them back out — pass them on, hand to hand, the way they’d just been passed to me. That’s what my gong would be for.

That’s what I want mine to be, tomorrow — not a gong that says it’s over, but one that says I’m still here, and I’m not done — I’ve got more to do.

I’m ringing it in recognition — for everyone sitting in this chair right now, for everyone who sat in it before me, for everyone who loves someone in it, carrying this alongside them without a chair of their own to sit in.

One gong. Not a battle cry. A wakeup call passed hand to hand, room to room, sent out to anyone who needs to hear that it’s possible to still be here, and still have more to do.

---

I’m finishing this from the chair of my last chemo treatment and I am grateful beyond words for everyone who lent me their strength to get here. If someone in your life needs this reminder of support right now, send it their way.

---

If you’re reading this, know that I’m forever going to be sending a little prayer out to those going through this every time I now hear “Get It On (Bang a Gong)” T. Rex. I invite you to join me. (And if you’re paying attention, the lyrics make zero sense. I'm keeping the gong and leaving the rest of Marc Bolan's word salad exactly where it is.)