My Season of “Yes, and…No”

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.

What No Longer Serves

There is something about a new year that feels “blank slate” and offers up a chance to set lofty goals—at least that’s how I approached 2023 in choosing integrate as my word of the year. Reflecting on it, I have actually made some progress…but have a lifetime of practicing to go.

This year’s word is an intimate glimpse into that practicing, and since vulnerability is a part of the practice, too, here goes…

Everybody has their issues, challenges, and history of hurts, and my personal story includes having a clinically diagnosed narcissist with borderline personality disorder for a mother. She passed a few years ago, and this is by no means an attempt to “disparage the dead” but—let’s just say it didn’t make for a lot of easy laughs and unconditional love. My mom was privately explosive and unkind, which created a hypervigilance in me to do my best not to trip her trigger.

You’re probably thinking, “Good Lord, Lisa…where is this going? It’s a word of the year, for crimony’s sake!” I know, I know. I’m getting there.

My mom lived to a ripe old age, and I was a seasoned professional at walking on eggshells and trying to manage circumstances to appease her. Eventually, I got into therapy and started learning, among other things, that it wasn’t my job to try and make her happy. But intellectually learning something and internally letting go of practices that kept me safe as a kid (but are no longer needed) are two very different things. One is easy…the other…not so much.

I noticed many years ago that I am almost always clenching a muscle somewhere in my body. Subconsciously, I create a physical tension—perhaps part of my hypervigilance to always be ready. It’s exhausting. When I recognize that I’m doing it, I literally make myself stop and let go. And I am now understanding more clearly how I do the same internally, as well. I am coiled and ready to spring into action at any moment to make sure landmines are averted. It, too, is exhausting. But guess what? The landmines are gone—and even if they aren’t—they are not my responsibility.

Which finally brings me to my word of the year…

I see 2024 as a year to add to my practice of trying to be a better human being the discipline of release. The release of actions that no longer serve me or the people I love. I’m not fully sure what that means or how to do it, but I know that when I find myself walking on eggshells or managing landmines, I need to stop and recognize I’ve retired from that job. And I need to let go of the resentment that comes along as part of the package at no extra charge. Just like I do when I tell myself to relax a clenched muscle, I need to release myself from the constraints of well-worn patterns and emotionally “relax.”

As I’ve shared before, my word of the year often falls right into my lap, but this year, as I was reflecting on what my word might be, other synonyms came and went before release settled in…unravel, uncoil, unwind, and unfold all spoke to me in different ways. When “unfold” was speaking up, it of course made me think of Steven Curtis Chapman’s song that has touched me deeply at other times of my life.

No matter what shape your faith life is in or where it falls on the “spiritual spectrum,” I think you will appreciate this video. While it is about a “Glorious Unfolding,” it is also the beautiful gift of a father releasing his daughter from grief and encouraging her to live her life to the fullest. It is just the kind of release I am striving for.

It’s a good thing I love learning because it seems there is always homework to do. But I am grateful to have this life to keep working on all of it.

May your 2024 be a year of practicing release of what isn’t helping, embracing what is, and being able to know the difference between the two.