The Yes Philosophy
Not perfection, just participation
There is a lady I know who has one of the most quietly joyful lives I have ever seen. She is not flashy, not trying to impress anyone, not rushing to fill her days with things to post about online. She simply lives. And when I asked her the secret to it all, her answer was so beautifully simple.
She said, “I just say yes to things.”
This is a woman who has known real loss. She lost her husband. Her family are not nearby and not the kind of family who keep in close contact. She could easily have become someone who stays home, who fades into the background, who says things like “I don’t know what to do with myself” or “There’s no one to go with.”
But no. She says yes.
A neighbour mentions a new coffee shop. Yes.
Someone she barely knows suggests an evening talk at the local library. Yes.
There is a folk music night in the village hall. Yes.
Even if she is not sure she will enjoy it. Even if she worries she might feel awkward. Even if it is easier to stay home.
She says yes.
And the result of this simple habit is astonishing. Her life is full. Not dramatic. Not glamorous. But full. She has acquaintances who have become friends, and friends who have become almost-family. She knows the lady in the florist by name. She has a favourite table at a café. She has learnt the difference between single malt whiskies. She has taken up things she never imagined, like coastal walks at sunrise and poetry afternoons and even a pottery class where she made a vase with a leaning side but a very proud heart.
She does not wait for life to come to her. She steps into it.
And I thought about how many of us need that reminder.
We are living in a time where loneliness is one of the biggest health problems we face. Not in the dramatic sense, but the quiet kind. The kind that creeps in when evenings at home become the default. When “I can’t be bothered” becomes more familiar than “Why not.” When we have convinced ourselves that new experiences are for other people. Or younger people. Or braver people.
We curate our social lives like we curate our wardrobes. We pick the familiar, the comfortable, the people and places we already know. But life grows larger when we let it include things we have not tried yet. It stretches, gently, into new spaces. It becomes interesting again.
Saying yes does not mean you have to love everything you try. Of course you won’t. You may go to that museum talk and realise you are still not particularly interested in medieval ceramics. But perhaps you sit next to someone lovely and have a chat that feels warm and human and unexpectedly needed.
You may try a new group at the community centre and find the activity itself is not really your thing. But maybe afterwards you walk home feeling more alive than if you had spent the afternoon scrolling on your phone.
You may join a friend for a walk in the drizzle, and though the weather is not ideal, the conversation might be one that opens something inside you again.
Saying yes is not about chasing excitement. It is about keeping yourself open.
A life shrinks or expands in relation to how willing we are to step into it.
You do not have to wait until you feel confident. You do not have to wait until you are in the mood. You do not have to wait until you meet the right people. You simply begin. And the rest follows. Slowly. Gently. Naturally.
If you are feeling lonely or stuck or like days are blending into each other, try it. Not as a grand challenge. Not as pressure. Just as a small private practice.
When an invitation comes, say yes.
When an idea pops into your mind to visit somewhere, go.
When someone mentions something happening nearby, try it.
Even once a week is enough to change the shape of your life.
And if the first few attempts feel awkward, that is completely normal. Most new things feel that way at the start. But on the other side of awkward is connection. On the other side of hesitation is a story to tell. On the other side of staying home is a life where things can actually happen.
Saying yes does not mean you will suddenly meet the love of your life. It does not guarantee a magical evening. But it does guarantee something far more valuable.
Possibility.
The possibility of friendship.
The possibility of joy.
The possibility of feeling part of the world again.
The possibility of seeing yourself in a new way.
We spend so much time thinking life is shaped by the big decisions. The truth is, it is shaped mostly by the small ones. The micro-moments. The tiny choices. The half-second between “I could…” and “I won’t bother.”
If you remember nothing else, remember my friend’s beautiful, simple philosophy.
Say yes.
Say yes to life while it is happening.
Say yes to the chance to feel connected.
Say yes to the chance to be surprised.
Say yes to the version of you who is still very much alive inside.
And watch what happens next.
Would you like me to shorten it for social posts, or create a caption version too?
You said:
lovely as always… could I have a few hash tags first please x
ChatGPT said:
Of course, my friend. Here are a few sets so you can choose the feel you want. All gentle, warm, and in your tone.
“Life gets bigger when we say yes.”
