There are those times in life when no really means no. Like the times when children relentlessly negotiate for what they want. It would be easier to give in, give up and encourage their whims. So to do what must be done, I become resolute and the “no ” stops us both. The next moment, the one that follows is strangely without inertia. What comes next?
Then there are those times when no is a mind-numbing word that steals your breath. When a heart stops beating and you want someone to start it again. “Doctor, Can you make it beat? ““No.” What comes next? “No.” At first I think everything and everyone is motionless but only I am stuck. “No.” Maybe I should start over. I want to start over. But I can’t. I can’t because it wasn’t me who said no.
We find life in-between and maybe even in each no. All journeys require motion and rest. Every song contains notes and rests. Like music everything stops between each movement. Then there is another melody different and promising but informed by the first. Perhaps there is another way. “No.” I can’t start over. I see myself saying no to the silence and the stillness. The inertia is crushing me. My lips form that word that has changed everything. And then I say, “Yes…”