A friend asked, “What do you say yes to?”
It is a tantalizing question. Especially since I mostly say no to myself: no more chocolate (and hands off the chocolate chips in the pantry); no whining (yes, still at age 42); no to the cute outfit on page 46 in the most recent Athleta catalog; and no more staring off into space – you’ve got work to do!
The list of NO’s could go on, and on, and it often includes stern statements to myself like no more crying, no more comparing, and no more grief: infertility, miscarried babies, and a long-gone ex-husband (okay, some relief on this last one!).
Clearly, it is time to start saying YES.
I say YES to all my emotions, feeling deeply, and then I say YES to letting them go.
I say YES to living in an abundant, magical world of my creation, a new mythology forged from the searing heat of rage and sorrow, to become the bright, glittering future where I live my full potential.
I am like the writer who must put aside the pages she’s been writing, letting them settle into the bottom drawer: the lines of snappy dialogue lacking segue; the clunky, awkwardly worded paragraphs; and the hopeful scribbles in the margins, that seemed to have a point, but then didn’t. All these bits and pieces may be useful, my writer friends assure me, perhaps as a spark for a future poem, or novel, but for now, the story is going nowhere.
The reluctance is great. I wanted that plot line to work. I’ve written the fairy tale ending numerous times: the happy, chubby, twin babies complete with the doting husband and father, the homey, two-story house on a tree-lined street, and me, the serene, joyful mother and wife. But it was the middle of the story, the heart of it I just couldn’t get down on paper. With great sadness, I know I’ve tinkered with it long enough. It is time to let it go, to shut the drawer, and pull out a fresh sheet of paper. It is time to start over. The blank page is in front of me. The empty white space is full of possibility, but also, there is, I admit, a tinge of fear in me as I stare at it, trying to divine, how do I fill that page, and the next one, and the one after that so as not to make more mistakes, waste more time?
I say YES to the love of my life.
I say YES to the burst of autumn colors marching up the hillside, heading west across the valley.
I say YES to fun, vibrant friends and friendships.
I say YES to biking and running and hiking and snowshoeing.
I say Yes to being an entrepreneur, building my own business, my own financial success.
I say YES to the writing of a blog to chronicle the creation of my magical life.
I say YES to my muse coming out to play. I let her float out of the drawer just before I dropped in that enormous sheaf of paper – my life story, the story that was and wasn’t.
I say Yes to all the possibilities filling the white space on that fresh, new sheet of paper.