On Saying "Yes"

There are Wednesday nights when you don't feel well so you get into your pajamas at 6pm, make yourself some tomato bisque, watch the Presidential Debate, read two chapters of a book about child abuse in the world of gymnastics and then fall asleep with your Chihuahua on your neck. 

There are other Wednesday nights when you don't feel well so you get into your pajamas at 6pm, make yourself some tomato bisque, watch the Presidential Debate, read two chapters of a book about child abuse in the world of gymnastics and then fall asleep with your Chihuahua on your neck BUT are then woken up at 11pm by your best friend asking if you can be ready in 20 minutes to party at the Rainbow Room.

On those nights, you must say "Yes." 

Not because you care about getting liquored up and sharing laughs with rockers you can name-drop later on Facebook but because life is fragile and what are we here for if not action? Inertia serves nothing, and although it's only drinks at the Rainbow Room you can't shake the awareness that it's more than that; that turning on the lights and doing your makeup at midnight and heading out knowing it will be agony waking up for work at 6:30am - those spontaneous moments, especially when shared with a great friend, cultivate a joyful and curious life. And you do believe that life must be cultivated. Love, humor, discovery, compassion - you believe those things are practiced. You want to practice them.  And so you say "Yes". 

To the outside observer, our night was not much of an adventure. After the bar we ended up at a diner, just the two of us, totally sober, laughing about the night and sharing onion rings. It was something we'd done a million times but it was a moment all its own and one we'll enjoy recounting and one that would never exist if we hadn't stopped to embrace it.

As we drove home I marveled at the stillness of the Sunset Strip - a calm I would never witness on a weekend. It was such an intimate moment with this city I love. I wondered if this was what it felt like to watch Marilyn Monroe sleep. I was drowsy and sentimental. How many purely blissful occasions like this one had I missed out on because I was tired or couldn't be bothered dressing up or didn't want to deal with parking? 

Next time I'll think twice before I dismiss an invitation. 

Next time I'll remember how alive I felt saying "Yes".