“Does that mean maybe?” The classic kid’s reply.
“Maybe.”
And the conversation is over for now. Except this
About the Author
time a thread has been pulled loose inside of me.
Things don’t feel tidy. When did I turn into the kind of
In a very short time,
person who says No, without even stopping to think
Sharon Roy transformed
about it? As I drive along the streets of Bristol, Rhode
from bored and
Island, the charming harbor town I call home, I begin
overwhelmed juggler
to feel haunted by a determined vow I made as a girl
of “It All” to living a life
not to turn into the kind of mom who says No all the
of balance, grace, and
time. It seemed to me then that mothers were quite
ease. As a work-at-home
prone to do that and I had intended to be different.
entrepreneur, wife,
But yet here I am, a mother, with yet another No fall-
and mother of four,
ing from my lips.
Sharon had lost herself in a web of havetos
The tomboy I once was shakes her finger at me and
and shoulds. She found herself entrenched
scowls. She is a powerful wild creature with briars in
in negative habits of thought that bred
her hair, a bandage on her elbow, and a flush of poison
resentment and anger in her soul, leaving her
ivy on her shin. I find her intimidating. She has not yet
exhausted. Over the years, she had simply
learned that there is a bunch of stuff she cannot do
given up on joy.
and so she can still do anything. She jumps onto the
Now she lives each moment from the heart
bare backs of horses that do not belong to her and
and manifests her dreams daily as a life coach
rides without permission. She stares down the boys
and farmer. The work is often harder, the days
who don’t play fair and isn’t afraid to punch them if
longer, the conditions in her off-grid cabin less
she needs to. She can probably even fly. Now, she
comfortable, and yet it’s easier. She now thrives
wants to hatch some eggs.
instead of merely survives. What started her
But seriously, I say to the girl within, of course we’re
on her new path? A ragtag bunch of backyard
not going to hatch eggs. What would we do with the
chickens that awakened and nourished her in
chickens? We don’t have any room! My tomboy folds
surprising ways. From watching that first chick
her arms and turns her head, disgusted. You are no fun,
emerge to learning by her own hand where
she says. Where has your sense of adventure gone?
food comes from, Sharon blew off the soporific
Where indeed? I wonder. The question lingers for a
and delusional trappings of security to become
few minutes and then fades away as I pull into the
free, passionate, wild, and alive.
driveway, a victim of count-
less urgent tasks like boiling
Her stories open us to the glory that lies within
water for pasta, emptying the
as we learn from the simple and divine ways
dishwasher, and taking out
of nature. Enjoy the unfolding of this book in
the trash.
your own life -- one new chapter will be in each
We eat the farm eggs for
edition of Aspire -- and look for some questions
breakfast.
at the end of every chapter that will get you
thinking about your own lessons and passions.
At the end of this first chapter, “The Power
Click here to continue
of Yes,” we invite you take four steps toward
the chapter and find your
finding those small wonders that are all your own.
own small wonders.
Perhaps saying Yes to one of them will open you
to your own fresh possibilities....
35
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