Banging on the Doors of "No"

Back in Minneapolis I belonged to an incredible church called St. Joan of Arc. More weeks than not, the homily was given by a guest, someone with a story to tell or a point to make. Through the years, we heard from a fitter of prosthetic limbs in SouthEast Asia, an aboriginal shaman, a suburban park ranger, and three women from a ravaged area of the West Bank. A Hawaiian man once danced a prayer through the aisles. That church and its people taught me much about life and love and peace.

One particular homily has been echoing through my head over the last few days. I don't remember who the woman was or what brought her to St Joans, but she spoke about doors of opportunity. She talked about how the doors of yes open easily, while the doors of no remain closed and locked no matter what we do.

She wasn't advocating a lack of persistence. Her point was that we often struggle to open closed doors while ignoring doors open to welcome us. I know she's right. Personally and professionally, I've beat on the closed doors of no til my hands and my heart bled, too stubborn to turn to a yes right beside me.

But then there's Jack Canfield, whose first Chicken Soup book was rejected by 140 publishers before it found a home. His agent gave up, but not Jack. He kept pounding until he found the yes. A few years later, he landed in The Guinness Book of World Records for having the most books (7) on the New York Times bestseller list at the same time.

So how do you tell the difference between wasting your time and working your way through the shit to find the pony?

Maybe, just maybe, the answer is not to worry about which it is. Maybe the trick is to fill my life with fulfilling work and fun and keep trying those doors. Keep knocking, keep sliding letters under the edges, keep hanging flowers on the knobs. Maybe when I least expect it, a door will open and I'll fall into yes.