Waiting for a “Yes”

Aliyah, one of my favorite Jubilee poets, performed a piece this morning (jamming with this two-time Grammy winner on acoustic base – very exciting) with no title (Aliyah doesn’t do titles), but loosely about her recently-developed process of waiting to act until she gets a clear Yes about a particular course of action. Obviously, she is not totally consistent about this. I bet she doesn’t apply it to brushing her teeth, crossing the street – or even many activities where it might actually be more appropriate or useful. But I liked the idea of it. It’s actually not a new idea – my friend Monty has spoken and written eloquently and persuasively about the ways he applies this principle. But it was good to be reminded of it.

Sitting outside in the sun just now, smoking a cigarette, across the street from a coffee shop where some friends were gathered – a couple of them expecting me – I just could find no “Yes” in me about going into the coffee shop. So I sat there in the sun, at first judging myself for this lack of action. I actually was feeling somewhat shy and awkward this morning, so I started (so drably predictable) by criticizing myself. But the self-criticism dropped away with relative ease, as I let myself rather just pay attention to the uncomfortable feelings. Then I got a very distinct “Yes” about capturing this moment in writing. I spent about 15 minutes getting this down on paper, really kinda having fun, considering the squeamishness of the topic.

Then I got a “Yes” for going into the coffee shop – not a totally enthusiastic Yes, but a Yes nonetheless. I was moving slow. I got my coffee, then didn’t sit down right away. There were about eight folks, all of whom I knew, around a fairly big circle – and I didn’t sit down right away. I didn’t know really where I wanted to sit – what spot called to me – and I waited, again, for a Yes. I finally got one and sat down between Jeff and Richard.

Then I had some great little eye contact and non-verbal greetings with Robin, with whom I feel lots more connection (based on actually very few words ever exchanged, much more on eye contact, smiles, and occasional hugs). And it was totally spontaneous and enthusiastic for me to go around the table and sit just behind her (no room around this side of the table).

Then a few minutes later, Robin left, leaving me maybe ten feet outside the circle – with now a clear open spot, Robin’s spot. I checked inside myself about moving up. I wasn’t really asking myself, “Do I want to move up?” I was much more scanning my insides for some attraction, some leaning towards moving up. I could find none, so I sat where I was. Not particularly gregarious, that – but I still was not feeling gregarious. Not really so shy and awkward, after my writing outside (ah, the miracle of surrendering to the muse), but also not gregarious.

I also recognized that I was not the least bit interested in the conversation and was more enjoying simply listening to all the interesting sounds in the café. Then I got the impulse to write something down – about this very process of waiting for a Yes. I had a really nice little notebook, which I had just used outside, in my backpack on the other side of the table. Shall I go get it? Nothing in myself that I could identify wanted to get up and go over there. I did want the notebook – if I could have somehow teleported it from my pack to my hands, I would have done so. But I didn’t want it enough to go around the table for it. And, choosing to not get it, I breathed a little sigh of relief. Some part of my mind and/or body was grateful that I had simply stood my ground (or sat it, I guess). Then I pulled out a business card and filled the entire back side (and all the white space on the front) with a fun little note about Yes’s. Not a napkin (of which there were none on the table), but just about as cool.

Am I going to spend the rest of my life waiting for Yes’s before I act? Hardly. The whole notion mostly went out of my head in the two hours since then, emerging just a few minutes ago. Sometimes my Yes will not come from that actual word, but from observing what my body is pulled towards or literally from watching where my feet lead me. Sometimes I will learn as much from good, clear No’s. No’s seem (and I guess are) more negative than Yes’s, but I think just as important. Our Yes’s get their power and integrity from the clarity of our No’s.

Do I have more to write about this topic right now? I’m not getting a “Yes”. Do I want to stop now? A clear “Yes”. Bye.