What a Yes Day taught me about risk, joy (and escaping a foam pit)
Last weekend I found myself in a seven foot pit of foam cubes, unable to get out, really questioning my life choices.
But before I tell you about that, let's back up to the morning of.
It was my friend Anne Marie's birthday celebration and we were going to have a Yes Day - a day where we would do whatever she wanted and I would say yes to the adventure.
The Yes Day started with an activity I wouldn't normally do - visiting the zoo. I'm not much of a fan of zoos, but this was her day.
And I'm glad I went - it was a gorgeous day and the butterfly sanctuary was as treat, as we experienced these beautiful little creatures humming around us.
Afterwards, we made our way to do something I would never normally do - a trampoline park.
These didn't exist when I was a kid (we had roller rinks, if you remember) but I was going to try it out!
We arrived at the front desk of the trampoline park, the building painted in bright orange and blue, kids screaming with glee as they ran between the arcade and various trampoline areas.
We were given the signature orange socks we had to wear and I looked around and noticed that we were the only adults with orange socks on. In fact, we were the only people over the age of 10 to trampoline!
After filling out a liability waiver that was longer than a CVS receipt, and fairly confident that I would pull or sprain something in the process of just stepping onto the trampoline, I asked the attendant,
"Which trampoline activities do you recommend for women of an... advanced age?"
"Well," he smiled, "I strongly recommend you avoid the foam pit. It's really hard to get out of."
We took note and started off easy in the basic trampoline area, bouncing and laughing, before throwing caution to the wind, and heading for the foam pit.
Avoid the foam pit, he said?
You think I'm going to get trapped in FOAM?
I went towards the pit of foam, jumping off the closest trampoline with glee... and was swallowed up in a seas of blue and orange foam blocks.
Fast forward ten minutes...
In case you have any doubt that I might have been drowning in foam, please see Exhibit A
I'm not going to say that they needed to call the fire department to get me out, but while I was rolling my way through foam like a person on fire trying put out the flames, I began to sink deeper and deeper into the pit.
"Use your knees!" Anne Marie scream-laughed from above.
There was no point trying to stand, I'd only sink deeper.
At some point in the frenzy, at least one orange sock came almost completely off and I wondered what else might lie at the bottom of this pit. I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Anne Marie was lying on the trampoline in fits of hysterics at watching her friend battle foam blocks.
It was at this point that I thought I might just live out my life in the foam pit, because Laura's arm strength was simply not going to cut it to pull myself out.
Anne Marie grabbed a gymnastics mat and she pushed it halfway into the foam, creating a makeshift slide that I could be pulled up on/climb up.
Of course this was all while the parents looked on, heads shaking, wondering why the hell I would put myself in this situation.
None of them came to my rescue.
I climbed/was dragged out and lay on the trampoline floor laughing hysterically. In fact, I don't remember laughing so hard, ever.
Tears streamed down my face with relief that I wouldn't be living out the rest of my life in a foam pit and joy at the absurdity of the situation.
I wiped off the body lice/contact dermatitis/scabies/flesh eating bacteria I undoubtedly encountered in the pit and we continued on with our Yes Day.
For me, this day will be burned into my memory as one of the funnest I've had in my adult life.
Yes, really.
I want to experience moments of that Yes Day every day. In my work; with my clients; in my personal life.
I want to live life with wonder, joy and laughter.
And I bet you do too.
I've been thinking about what made our Yes Day so much fun, and here's what I believe make up the key elements:
Say yes to doing something you've never done or wouldn't normally do and see what happens.
Surround yourself with people who will gladly join you for parts of the journey.
Find something fun to do each week, with no goal associated other than your pleasure.
Remember to move - it feels so good.
LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHO KNOW MORE THAN YOU or else you might end up in a foam pit waiting for a hunky fireman to save you (I mean, life could be worse).
Laugh at your follies, foibles and missteps. They make the best stories.
Take risks, but have a friend/colleague/coach who can help you get back on your feet when you fall.
I think about those parents watching me as a struggled to get out of the foam pit.
People rarely want to risk looking dumb or losing face.
But sticking with the crowd means you'll never stand out. You'll never get to experience the joy that Anne Marie and I experienced if you stay on the sidelines.
If you think about our lives as the keys on the piano, there are 88 keys you can learn to play.
Certainly you can keep hitting the middle C over and over, it's safe, but that's pretty boring.
Or you can learn to tickle the highs and dance with the lows, because together they form a masterpiece that's your life; a beautiful work of art that stands apart, finds joy in even the darkest days and creates life worth living.
Being willing to risk looking dumb is one of the most fruitful endeavors you can take on.
Laura Khalil is a business coach and advisor that helps entrepreneurial women work only with clients they love and go after bigger deals.
