Last week, I met with Roze, my self care vibrational advocate and guru. I’d scheduled the meeting to talk about cannabis titrations and developing a plan for taking advantage of the actual medical properties of cannabis, but before all that we chatted about other things. One of things had to do with my tendency to say ‘yes’ to everything. They told me that I needed to make space for me and that requires saying ‘no’ sometimes. Then they said the thing that wrecked me. They said “We are taught to put the oxygen mask on our own faces before helping the person next to us. Cindy, you’ve been holding your breath for a really long time.” There’s a whole a bag of feelings to unpack from this. Anger and shame and relief. Relief from being seen and understood without saying a word. Roze can see right through all of my walls and barriers. It’s something that I hate and love all at the same time.

But yeah, I’ve been holding my breath for a long time.

So, I’ve been practicing with putting my oxygen mask on first. I’m practicing with saying ‘no’ more often instead my default ‘yes’. In our time together, Roze and I established that I feel true yesses in my heart and nos in my guts. I need to pause long enough to notice if my yes is a true a yes. Do I feel it in my heart when I say it out loud? This practice of breaking my habit of ‘yes’ is so incredibly difficult. When Chris died, I jumped off into the deep end of yesses with the idea that this would keep me from becoming a recluse. I somehow got it fixed in my head that saying ‘no’ was a negative response that results in needless disappointment from others. But every time I was saying a not so truthful ‘yes’ to someone, I was saying ‘no’ to myself. I say ‘no’ to myself in so many different ways. No to foods. No to rest. No to loving this body. No to easing up on myself. No to releasing any and all guilt for the few times I give myself the ‘yes’.

We spent the holiday weekend at a lake house with Robin and Summer’s family. I told myself that I was getting up early every morning and getting in a kayak. That first morning, I stepped out onto the deck at 6:00 AM and hauled the kayak into the dock. I spent almost an hour out on the lake by myself. There were no other boats out. The lake water was smooth and calm. It was the quietist moment I have had in a really long time and it was the only morning I made it out for the kayaking experience. After that, I said ‘no’ to the early morning wake up time and ‘yes’ to just floating in a tube like a bobber. I said ‘yes’ to eating the fried chicken my family would drive two hours to eat when I was a kid. The inside of the restaurant looked exactly the same as the last time I was there in maybe 2004 (?). The chicken was almost the same, but not quite. I said ‘yes’ to the memories of Dad which floated around everywhere because we were in the area of Arkansas where we had camped almost every year of my childhood. The Graham produce stand where I’d get my pumpkin every year is abandoned, but still standing. We passed it on the way to the chicken place.

I said ‘no’ to taking pictures.

I said ‘yes’ to eating a chili dog.

I said ‘no’ to immediately going back to work when we got home and instead, took a day to rest.

I’m working on making sure my oxygen mask is on securely before helping others. I might just discover that once my own mask is secure, I’ll look over at the person next to me and find that their own mask is already on their faces. Because as it turns out, not everyone needs help securing their oxygen mask.