The Miracle of Yes
Improvisors learn this quickly:
to say No stops all forward motion.
Let me restate: after you say No
the sun ceases spinning and the universe
tumbles in on itself in the sound of a snap.
We are born wanting to be unborn,
toddlers who nuzzle our mothers neck
to avoid strangers, No gives us power,
autonomy, we refuse the sippy cup,
unaware this is the other side of Yes.
For years, unless we were raised in fear,
everything becomes a Yes. Foolishly
indulgent, adults-in-charge think we are
tiny terrorists who defy death head-on,
even we can’t see the danger coming.
When the system begins to take us,
we fold, flattered to be anointed,
to be groomed for some future task.
Forgetting Yes and No as birthright,
prudence advises a less resistant path.
We must relearn what the kid in us knew,
Yes keeps the conversation going, the scene
in play, the windows open, doors ajar.
It’s a hand offered whether it’s needed or not.
Take the chance, say it: Say Yes. And...