Tag: mental health

My Season of “Yes, and…No”

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments

It’s that time of year where I look for a word to frame my outlook for the year ahead. This will be my twelfth time doing so—but the first where my word (or phrase, in this instance) is one I am already practicing in depth and hope to continue until the end of my days.

I mean—I’m so committed to it that I’m getting it tattooed on my weary, aging body. (Which made for a wonderful moment when I told my father-in-law that his Christmas gift money was going to finance my tattoos. I’ve never seen his face drop like that. It was like a bonus Christmas gift!)

As this year finds me at a loss in so many ways, the one thing that I feel solidly rooted in is that I am living my season of “yes, and…no.” What exactly does that mean? It means I am doing my best at living my life trying to say “yes” to the things I truly want—and “no” to the things I don’t. Sounds decadently selfish, doesn’t it? Except it’s not—and I keep having to reinforce that with myself over and again.

I’m not talking about shirking responsibilities and living a life of hedonism. For me, this is growing into a place of learning what I actually want and doing it—and then also having the freedom to say “no” to the “shoulds” that can suffocate life. It is no easy task—especially for someone who has lived a life of hypervigilance trying to keep others—particularly one other—appeased. (Last year’s word touches on this.) But I am determined to commit to living a better life in this way.

I started working on this before I had my little catchphrase, of course, but the first part of the phrase dropped right into my lap when I took an improv class last year (something my heart knew I wanted to say “yes” to) at Westside Improv in Wheaton, Illinois. One of the very first things you learn in the improv world is “yes, and…” as a way to build a scene and support your partner. Notice it’s not just “yes”—the “and” is critical, too. It means you agree and add something of your own. It builds trust and helps scenes go places—not just come to a screeching halt. (“Hey, you look ten feet tall in those new jockey silks!”/”Uh…I’m not a jockey”…and…thud.)   

Now, for me, this kind of “yes, anding” was even more impactful because it was modeling the way to agree and support someone not to appease but to build something good and healthy. That’s a lot of unlearning for a girl like me, and the feeling of “yes, anding” for the right reasons is amazing. It fills up a tank I didn’t even know I had.

And guess what? When you come into a new community where that is the foundational principle? Wonderful things happen. Other tenets like listening, being fully present, and seeing mistakes as opportunities to be better add to the atmosphere and make Westside a place that has become a very important part of my life. And then there’s the fact that it’s pretty damn funny—which is a great fringe benefit.

All this goes beyond improv, too. Looking at life through the “yes, and…” filter can change relationships and situations for the better—helping me not only in discerning what to say “yes” to, but knowing it’s really hard to go wrong with listening and being present. And if my inner critic can’t lay me out because of a mistake? Bonus.

I’m grateful for this continual practice.

So…what about the “no” part? It may sound contradictory, but saying “no” is also a key part of this season for me—but in a different application. “Nos” come in when the “shoulds” that push me to say “yes” out of what others want rather than what I may want (or need) rear their heads.

While I know this happens to everyone, I think this is a burden borne more heavily by women than men, as we have been trained to attend to the needs of others from a very early age. Though things are becoming slightly better balanced in the 21st century, all it takes is a visit to a school activity to see who is expected to make the brownies and sew the play costumes. Of course, this stuff does need to get done (we don’t want kiddos performing in their birthday suits), but let’s hear it for a healthy rotation! Brené Brown speaks about how if we can get past the uncomfortable minute that a “no” creates, we can save a lengthy aggravation or upset for ourselves (and often those who live with us!) She actually spins a ring she wears to give her a moment to decide what is the right answer for her—and if it’s “no,” well that’s completely acceptable.

This is often a toughie—especially when I’m put on the spot. But I know I’m getting stronger—and each time a “no” is said for the right reasons, the reinforcement of why this is important washes over me (right after I attempt to eschew the guilt from disappointing others).

The truth is that with time as precious as it is, I just don’t want to be spending any more of it than I absolutely have to doing things that don’t nurture my heart and soul—and that doesn’t translate to a little girl stomping her feet and getting the candy she demands—because my heart and soul aren’t only interested in me. Rather, it’s about excavating the mounds of ‘stuff’ life heaps upon a person and figuring out what is true to remain or find—and then building on that. Knowing the “right nos” makes me a better person—and that makes me a better family member, friend, and community member.

I hope my “yes, and…no” season lasts until I take my own special dirt nap—and I hope the same for you. Seeing life as a world of possibilities to be realized through positivity and support of and from others—with healthy boundaries to protect the time we have to do so—is a way to keep afloat in this crazy riptide of life. And who knows? Instead of exhausting myself against the current, I just may end up on a beautiful tropical island!

*The photo above is the first tattoo I am getting early in 2025. I bet you can guess what the second one is.

2023: Folding in the Cheese

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 3 Comments

Have you ever had a thread hanging from a sleeve that someone thought they would “help” by pulling, but it didn’t break off and just kept pulling? And when you were able to take a closer look you realized that if you continued pulling it, the entire sleeve would come off?

This is what the last several years have felt like for me. How about you?

The great unraveling.

I feel the national/global version of it—where rights we thought were carved in stone have been shattered into rubble, hates we thought we grew beyond were revealed to be as ugly as ever, and a disrespect for the world we are leaving our children is counted in billion-dollar profits.

Day after day feeling like Apollo Creed getting mortally pummeled by Ivan Drago.

It’s personal, too. The word I keep returning to for how I’ve felt these last several years is “untethered.” The feeling of overwhelm has resulted in a disconnect that has me floating around in a surreal, slow-motion 3D-pinball game. A game I am not winning.

And if I haven’t mixed enough metaphors/similes for you yet, here’s one more: I feel like I have been working to swim to a shore that I cannot see—and don’t know if I am getting closer or farther from land.

Even choosing a word of the year for 2023 has had me scratching my head. Normally, the word truly “appears” to me with little thought, but this year—unless the word “huh?” qualifies—I have been grappling. I was tempted to forego it—and if it hadn’t been a years-long tradition, I probably would have—but I didn’t. I’m holding myself accountable. (Though in reading this rambling post, perhaps you are wishing I wouldn’t have.)

I need to feel more grounded. I need to feel a little less lost and a little more found, and so it is with this yearning that I share the word I have ultimately chosen for 2023: integrate.

Merriam Webster defines integrate as “to form, coordinate, or blend into a functioning or unified whole.” While there are variations of the meaning—like the societal application—for my purposes, the understanding that I am embracing is the idea of working toward a personal “unified whole.”

Should take me just a few more days.

Or a lifetime.

Give or take.

The problem is that there’s no pause button to hit on life—the pages of the calendar fill up and get ripped off without missing a beat—no matter what you have going on. And working on anything, let alone a “unified whole,” too often gets buried under life’s responsibilities.

But in 2023 that is all going to magically change for me.

Okay, maybe not. But putting a name to it and seeing it for what it is matters, and the pursuit of wholeness should not continue to be relegated to the bottom drawer of my mind’s file cabinet. This year I am going to do my best to make it top drawer.

Though I am not sure of what integration looks or feels like for me, I know it involves the whole smash: body, mind, and soul. A team effort. I know that, like most of us complicated beings, I have some parts that have broken down or were maybe never put together properly to begin with, and so I am striving to both repair and build anew—and hopefully find true wholeheartedness along the way.

Fun fact: a welded joint, when using the right materials and process, is stronger than the original metal. I like that. Maybe there’s some welding involved in this integration that will result in even greater strength.

Other verbs I know factor into this goal include focus, listen, learn, rest, heal, play, connect, feel…and more. I sense, too, that it is not a destination but a practice, just as when I hit the yoga mat and must remember to breathe and pay attention.

Have I convinced you yet that I absolutely don’t know what I’m talking about regarding my very own “word of the year”? I’ve certainly convinced myself.

In thinking about it, though, I can’t help but remember a scene from one of my favorite shows…

Folding in the cheese is a way of integrating a part into a whole, after all. Maybe I just need to figure out what needs folding and where.

What I do know is that the swirly-ballooned-3D-pinball experience needs to be game over. Please. Before I float away all together. I could end up like one of those balloons we used to release when we were kids (before we knew how bad that was) with our address attached to the string hoping someone might find it and write us from some exotic land. (Does Beloit, Wisconsin qualify as exotic? If so, I think our hopes were fulfilled.)

Lots of thoughts. No clear plan. Sounds about right.

But here we go, 2023…Hoping for “into great.”