“No” is one of the earliest words toddlers learn. It is a word that can stir up frustration in parents and caregivers as it often interferes with their attempts to maintain family routine. Often the message given to these tiny humans beginning to assert their independence is that compliance is more valued than autonomy.
This message continues as we age. In a capitalistic society, “no” is an undesirable word, whether it refers to one’s accumulation of material goods, or to one’s participation in the system which requires ever more investment of time and energy for one’s “work”, leaving less of those resources for personal pursuits. Further, holders of certain political views seem to view any kind of “no” imposed by government agencies as an infringement on their personal freedom, an attempt to deny them particular rights.
Both culture and religion equate personal boundaries with selfishness, particularly for those enculturated as women. Praise is bestowed on those who “put others first”. Those who speak up for their own needs or wants are viewed as “difficult” or “troublemakers”. As a result of this ongoing messaging, we women become adults who believe it is easier to say “yes” than “no”, and that if we were to say “no”, we need to justify and defend.
Writing and living as a woman, my journey through midlife has invited me into a different relationship with this small but powerful word. Through paying attention to my visceral responses when I say either “yes” or “no”, I have come to believe that my sacred “no” is one of my most important soul practices. Though “yes” comes more automatically, “no” often connects me with what is most authentically true at a soul level.
First of all, it requires that I connect with my own heart. The sacred no is not a logical determination, but a matter of the heart. It arises from knowing what matters to me in my deepest being. One of the ways it does this is through contrast. I feel in my body the result of a “yes” I don’t mean or don’t want to follow through on. It feels like eating contaminated food, like a poison to my system, rather than nourishment.
This contrast shows up in other ways, as well. For example, I don’t like feeling exhausted all the time, so I choose to say no to certain activities so I can choose rest. I don’t like feeling disconnected from people I love, so I choose opportunities for connection and conversation with them.
Secondly, connecting with my sacred “no” helps me cultivate boundaries around my priorities. One of my writer friends describes boundaries as a hedge that we trim, allow to expand, or even relocate, as meets our needs in the moment. I really like that metaphor (even while my logical mind knows that relocating a hedge is anything but easy). I want my boundaries to be a living organism that can respond to what life offers me.
For instance, during the past couple of years, I’ve enjoyed being able to devote my mornings to reflection time, journalling, and even some creative writing. My boundary has been that I rarely accept coffee invitations or make appointments before noon. However, this summer, I am helping provide support to a loved one who needs my attention most of the day, most days during the week. I have discovered that I now have to prioritize opportunities to engage in activities which don’t involve caregiving so I don’t burn out. When a friend invites me for coffee at 10:30am, and my Favourite Person is available to assume caregiving duties, I will accept the invitation. In both scenarios, what is important to me is tending my own energy system, knowing what I need for soul-nourishment and choosing accordingly. What is a “no” in one setting becomes a “yes” in a different circumstance.
In other words, our sacred no helps us define our freedom. Freedom isn’t about having no restrictions, but rather about being able to choose. When I take the time to listen to my heart’s deepest desires, to note what my soul (not my brain or my environment) tells me matters most, I then know which choices will nourish, and which will deplete me.
Our sacred no helps us discover who we really are, as opposed to who we think we should be. It requires practice, and attentiveness to what we need in the moment. As we grow in this connection to our deepest truth, we will find that our no then also extends itself in service of others. Because the dignity and worth of every human is important to me, I am willing to speak up on behalf of those being denied that dignity.
Our sacred no is anything but selfish. It is a manifestation of our rootedness in our truth and our worth. As we live into this, we become shelter and nourishment for the world around us.
Where are you invited to connect with your sacred “no”? What matters to you so much that you’re willing to respond differently to the cultural expectation of “yes”?
Leave a Reply