On Being Your Own First Yes
Photo by Karen Santos
Just like many other folks putting their work out into the internet, I struggle with the silence that often greets me. There was one year that I eagerly decided to participate in national poetry month–excited to put my work out for the thirty days of April.
As I kept putting out poems, thoughtfully pairing them with images and music, and then receiving (seemingly) no or very little response, I increasingly grew frustrated and gave up on the whole thing midway through.
I don’t blame or shame myself. As creative beings, I think we desire witness and connection in our work. There’s a whole other conversation we could have about algorithms and social media and going viral (or not), and the ways we start to tangle that up with our worth or the quality of our work. Being honest, I still haven’t really landed on a clean cut approach to that milieu, but there are words I return to often when I feel particularly tangled in it.
The early 20th century poet Ranier Maria Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet,” are some of them. As the title suggests, it’s a collection of letters to an emerging poet with wisdom on the creative life. In the first letter Rilke writes:
“You ask me if your verses are good. You ask me. You have asked others before me. You send them to journals. You compare them with other poems and you worry if certain editors refuse your efforts. Now, as you have given me permission to advise you, I beg you to give up all that. You are directing your thoughts outwards, and that above all is what you should not do at present. No one can advise and help you, no one. There is only one way. Withdraw into yourself. Explore the reason that bids you write, find out if it has spread out its roots in the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die, if writing should be denied to you. Above all, ask yourself in the stillest hour of the night, “Must I write?” Dig deep into yourself for an answer. And if this answer should be in the affirmative, if you can meet this solemn question with a simple strong “I must,” then build up your life according to this necessity. Your life right down to its most indifferent and unimportant hour must be a token and a witness to this compulsion.”
I sometimes also return to my own words for reminders and encouragement. This week I stumbled across these words I had written in my notes app about being my own first yes and witness.
Some people would call my current confidence foolhardy. Some people would even disdain what I call my beautiful, astonishing life and find it paltry.
But I have been to the edge of myself and fallen off the cliff. I know what it is to be starving for the breath of life from the bottom of a chasm. I have gone to my depths to survive. I have swallowed the silence and insinuations that have said I am too much, not enough or have not even seen me. I have borne the weight of the assumptions made about me because I am small in stature, soft in voice, brown in skin, foreign name that you can’t pronounce, but with which I was crowned by my grandmother–”one who rules.”
I remember Toni Morrison’s words, and I stand at the center and now let you come to me. I am my own gravitational force. I am my own yes first. I am an indomitable ocean, first broken ground, seed in the earth, force of life and fury and hope and presence and power and love and joy and evolution. Just because you don’t have the vision to see the life within me doesn’t mean what I call my life astonishing is paltry. I am bigger because I have made my life, I have named my life, I have birthed and am birthing this life, brilliant, bold, imperfect, chaotic, messy, but thrumming with vitality. I reject the idea that someone else, something else outside of me needs to choose me first. I am always my first yes, and I will let you follow in my wake when you join the chorus.
For Reflection
In which ways are you waiting for external validation instead of being your own first yes?
Which aspects of yourself or life do you feel drawn to name as astonishing that you suspect others may call paltry?
How can you remind yourself of this awe when you feel low?
An Invitation
If these reflections resonate with you, I’d love to support you.
I partner with creative, curious leaders surviving corporate to be their own first yes—empowering them to trust and act on their inner wisdom with confidence. If you feel drawn to this work, I invite you to explore The Chrysalis Contemplative, my three-month 1:1 coaching experience.
If you’re looking for a different place to begin the work of deepening your self-trust, I also offer Threshold Sessions—a 90-minute coaching experience that combines insightful questions with mind-body connection to help you move beyond overthinking and take your next aligned step at a life or career crossroads.