This summer, I read Sarah Porwoll’s poem, “All I Want,” in The New York Times. It’s about the perspective she gained after surviving breast cancer, a diagnosis she received at age 32. Sarah and I first met in college in 2002 and reunited on the Cream for her to tell her story and share some of the surprises that treatment and her body had in store for her. We talk about love, casserole, self-checks, and guilt. She tells a great waxing joke and reads “All I Want.” The poem is a part mantra, part prayer for appreciating all the boring, seemingly insignificant things that happen in life.