FIND THE YES IN THE NO’s (Experiment #1)
Or, Why I Am Sitting In My Driveway Clicking On Way Too Many Marketing Emails Instead Of Going Inside And Unloading The Dishwasher
Some people (a.k.a., the internet on the daily) enjoy proclaiming that “No” is a complete sentence. As a grammatical principle, I’m here for it.
As a life maxim, however, it’s kinda bullshit.
Sure, we could “just say no” to someone or something and walk away, just as we could eat boiled chicken and lettuce every day for a month. We’ll live, but it probably won’t be much of a life.
For those willing to take time and investigate a bit, “No,” can be a goldmine of connection.
This is something I learned studying Nonviolent Communication (NVC) during the pandemic. NVC is a communication practice that focuses on uncovering your own needs, uncovering other people’s needs, then collaborating to get both sets of needs met.
One of the mottos of NVC is “Try to hear the yes in the no.” The theory being that behind every “no” you hear, there is some other need that a person is saying “yes” to.
A person saying no to a date might be saying yes to a need for quiet reflection time, or maybe to a desire to spend an entirely un-awkward evening with nachos and Netflix.
A person saying no to the 14th request for parent volunteers at school this year might be saying yes to saving her sanity or her marriage.
Finding “yes-es” in “no’s” can neatly steer conversations away from an endless loop of blame and shame and into the productive heart of what really matters in a discussion.
To wit, an after school conversation with my 9-year-old daughter:
Step 1: Get a No
Me: Will you please pick up your backpack off the floor?
Kid: (Sigh. Eye roll.) Right noooowww???!
Step 2: Find a Yes (What needs might they be saying yes to?)
Me: Are you wanting some rest and relaxation after a long day at school?
Kid: Yes!!
Step 3: Collaborate
Me: Hmm… Well, I’m wondering if there’s a way that we could get you the relaxation you’re wanting while also meeting my need for avoiding concussive head trauma from tripping over the backpacks, shoes, and jackets strewn across the entryway?
Let the collaboration ensue. It’s funny to see what strategies kids come up with as they try to maintain autonomy, avoid excess effort, and make minimal attempts at taking your adult concerns into consideration. (My daughter’s first suggestion was “You could pick up my things today, and I’ll do it tomorrow?” Um, no.)
But just as often, if not more, the “No” we’ll hear will be our own.
At 8:14 Monday morning, I found myself sitting in my car, engine off, after dropping my kid at school. I was 5 or 6 minutes into a heavy-duty email scrolling session, tapping on ones I never open. (You know, the ones with subject lines like “You’ll Never Guess What I Did!” and “You Won’t Believe What Happened Next…”)
I was clicking on marketing emails for things I absolutely don’t need ($750 shoes!), and for recipes I will never make (Italian Sloppy Joes). I don’t care about Prince Harry or joining a VIP membership for organic cleaning products, but there I was, clicking away, because the thing I did know for sure is that I was not, under any circumstances, getting out of my car, heading inside my house, and tackling my list of tasks for the day.
M’kay, yes. Turns out my brain is also a whiny, eye-rolling tween when it comes time to do the things.
It was handing me a big, fat NO, so I got a little playful, a little curious, and very direct:
Step 1: Get a No
Me: Time to unload the dishwasher!
Brain: (Flares nostrils in disgust and ignores me. Keeps scrolling.)
Step 2: Find a Yes (What could it be that I’m saying “yes” to?)
Me: Are you wanting to relax a bit right now because the house is finally quiet after the usual chaos of a weekend of family shenanigans?
Brain: YES.
Step 3: Collaborate
Me: Well, I’d love if we could find a way to get us that feeling of rest and fill up that bone-dry cup, and also get a few items done on our list… You know, so maybe those tasks don’t pile up into a tottering tower that threatens to crush us entirely?
Brain: (Long exhale.)
I collaborated with myself, asking, “How can we make this easier?” I promised myself I’d only do 10 minutes in the kitchen, that I’d put on a playlist I like, and I pictured my future self surveying a job well done with satisfaction. That was enough to get me out the car door and into the house without the self-bashing I usually dealt out in an effort to get myself moving.
At this point you might be wondering—Okay, but do I NEED to spend all this time “collaborating” every day to get all the friggin’ things done?!
Goodness no. There are plenty of days I just ram it through like my cornfed, stalwart Kansan forebears! (If we’d had a family crest, our motto might have been whatever the Latin is for “Get Over Thyself.”)
But on the days that I’m able to remember that resistance has its reasons, that “No,” can be a teacher, I’m rewarded with a chance to stretch my heart a little.
I expand, if only for a few seconds, toward the compassionate and generous human I long to be—both for myself and all the loves in my life.
“No” is a complete sentence. But it can be so much more.
**Experimenteers Club Challenge**
If you’re reading this, and you’re thinking, “Hey, me too!,” or “That’s cool, I need to try that!,” then you’re officially in the club! Welcome, it’s lovely having you!
Join us by trying this experiment in one of your in-between times today, then reply to this email or drop into the comments. I’d love to hear about your results!
Listen for ‘No’s in your day—maybe from a colleague, a partner, a kid, or even from yourself. (Remember,‘no’ can take a lot of forms—it can be verbal or non-verbal, and can sound and look like hostility, reluctance, or even procrastination.)
Can you hold space for the ‘No’ (even for a few moments!), in order to lean in and look around for the ‘yes’? Get curious—no to what? yes to what? Can you collaborate with the ‘yes-es’ to find a way forward that lets in a little more love?