It takes saying no to make room for yes
One True Sentence #3
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
- Ernest Hemingway
My one true sentence:
It takes saying no to make room for yes.
I first mentioned my month of saying no on social media after finishing my 7th retreat of the year. I was exhausted and had exerted all my extroverted energy and was in desperate need of a break.
“I just need to make it to November,” was a personal mantra I whispered to myself on repeat.
I handed myself the baton and could see the finish line - I just had to cross it.
The prize? A month of “no.”
No travel. No draining extracurricular outings. No major business shifts. No social media.
A quiet month at home, where I work from my pjs, prioritize rest, and tend to my needs.
NO-vember I would call it.
And almost in the same breath as announcing “NO-vember” an immediate desire to fill that space emerged.
What if I write the book?
30 days. 2000 words a day. Say no to everything else to write the book I’ve dreamt about for years.
“Now is the time!” I thought, followed by a deep sense of shame.
What was wrong with me? Why can’t I just relax? Why am I filling up this space with more?
Why am I self-sabotaging my rest?
Why am I filling my NO-vember with another project?
Maybe because November is a month full of trauma. It’s when Brad’s diagnosis went from bad to devastating.
Brad had just finished a grueling surgery removing his kidney - a surgery we were told would reduce the tumor burden, and with it, his pain.
Instead, it was the first domino in a long line of dominos to fall - the spread of cancer to his spine, resulting in a fractured vertebra; the potential spread of cancer to his spinal fluid and brain, causing double vision; the spread of cancer to his liver and lungs; two small hematomas on his brain; decreased mobility; rapid weight loss; and more to come.
At the start of the month, we left Cleveland Clinic with hope and a plan, and by the end of the month, we entered St. Joseph’s Hospital with uncertainty and fear.
It was/is a lot to process.
No wonder I am busying my life. Sitting still, slowing down, saying “no” - all necessary for processing trauma.
But maybe writing the book is processing.
Maybe not.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Maybe even though I thought this month would be one of rest, the louder, more urgent call, is a month to write.
When I first spoke of using the month of November to rest (and decidedly not write a book mere weeks after being so overwhelmed I wanted to burn my life down), I had several thoughtful, caring people reach out and say:
“I’m glad you’ve decided to rest during this time instead of writing a book.”
“The book can wait, take care of you!”
“Do you HAVE to write the book??”
And with each agreeable nod, that little voice inside me shouted back, “But it’s time.”
No, I do not have to write the book. There is no agent on deadline or publisher waiting1.
But I need to.
This book is inside of me and it's clawing its way out and if I don't put pen to paper I will burst with longing and regret.
I know firsthand how fragile life is. And I know I don’t want to die with this dream left unfinished.2
It doesn’t matter if I am tired and overwhelmed. If I do not write the book, I will not be fine.
It takes saying no to make room for yes.
Over the years, I’ve been hard on myself for not writing this book sooner - when the wounds were still fresh. When the desire to write was a hunger so deep in my gut, I was famished.3
I’ve struggled between the liminal space of “life is short” and “there is time.” I’ve struggled between living in the now and planning for a future that isn’t guaranteed (but I hope to have).
I’ve prioritized building a beautiful business - hosting retreats and creating memorial books and crafting an entire online community to support grievers.
I’ve said yes to many other things besides writing the book.
Because writing a book is hard. It takes more than hunger. It takes routine, time, discipline, focus.
It takes prioritizing putting pen to paper, maybe above all else.
It takes saying no. Over and over and over again.
It takes saying no to make room for yes.
It takes saying no to travel, to draining extracurricular outings, to major business shifts, to social media, to extra rest.
It takes saying no, not just to make room for yes, but to give you the space to know what your yes even is.
And my yes? It’s a book.4
What’s your one true sentence today?
I’d love to hear where you’re at. What is true for you in this moment? Let’s continue the conversation in the comments below.
YET! But if you know one, send them my way!
Brad wrote 3 chapters of his book, and the rest - like his life - is unfinished.
I have to remind myself that I have 400 journal pages from this time. The writing happened.
That I will write from my pjs.
My one true sentence for today:
I want to sleep.
It is going on 41 months since I have truly slept. I seem to be coming into a place where I am feeling that I could actually relax? It is fleeting, however, I am having small clips here and there. The never ending list of everything that always has to be taken care of. I am thinking of shelving it all…
With the exception of helping a close friend through a patch on the horizon, I’m thinking I am going to sleep this winter. And try to take care of myself, to the best of my ability.
We shall see.
Write the book Dana.
I’d love to read Brad’s three chapters as well.
I love your word NO-vember!
Thank you for all you share.
I appreciate you.
Allow each moment to guide you to the next right thing. No overthinking about what we should or should not do. Stay awake, be aware, be grateful, and allow your beautiful life to unfold….one moment at a time. ❤️