At our house, we have a rule about the word “yet,” and the rule is: we use it.
This is not a complicated rule.
I guess we could call it The Yet Rule, or maybe we should go with The Yeti Rule, because Yetis are more interesting than Yets. The name is not really the point, though.
It works like this. Sometimes we hear ourselves saying things like:
I can’t do this.
I am no good at this.
I don’t know how anyone ever does this.
I can’t figure this out.
We are telling ourselves stories about being stuck, but being stuck is not actually a story. Being stuck is a story problem.
Can you imagine what a boring story just “being stuck” would be? Once upon a time I got stuck. The end.
No, being stuck means the story isn’t finished.
That’s just the beginning. You need to add a “yet.”
I can’t do this yet.
I don’t know how this works yet.
I’m not very good at this yet.
That’s the rule. If you hear yourself (or someone else) telling a story of being stuck, you add a yet.
“Yet” takes that beginning and turns it into a journey, a plan, a dare.
A story doesn’t end in the stuck place. You learn something, you go somewhere, you find a guide, you face your shortcomings. You grow.
Yet says: this story is going somewhere. Yet says: this difficulty will be overcome. Yet says: I believe. Faith is belief in things you cannot see, and “yet” is a word of faith.
Yet has a destination, or at least a direction.
Yetis also have direction, but their direction is chasing you, and your direction is running away. That’s probably why it’s not The Yeti Rule after all.
You never know where a story will take you, but you know it won’t end with you stuck. “Yet” has you looking for light and waiting on hope.
Your story can be new every morning.
Today has never happened before. Tomorrow still hasn’t happened.
I don’t know what shape those days will take, and neither do you. That’s okay. We haven’t cracked the cover on those stories. Yet.