I’m not a no person,
Feel me?

I’m the eternal people pleaser. The one who always wants to find a way to say yes.
They make up idioms about people like me:
“You want something done? Ask a busy (read: overwhelmed) person.” (They’ll always feel obligated to say yes… and get it done.)

I used to think saying yes was the hard part.
I used to call myself a control freak, the kind who likes to know where everything is.
My husband once asked if my memory is filed like a library. (It is.)

My accounting is up to date. I know where every matching pair of socks lives.
And if someone removes a book from my office shelf, I know. Immediately.*

I have a lot on my plate. Especially since I used to also be holding everyone else's plates (Usually unsolicited, out of what I thought was the sheer goodness of my heart.)

So saying yes to new things, adventures, experiences, people, coffee dates, hikes, even new hoodie brands*, used to feel overwhelming.

But I've come to realize; saying yes was never the real challenge.
The real challenge is saying no.

You’ve probably heard the line:
“Never trust a yes from someone who doesn’t know how to say no.”
Or this one:
“Every time we say yes to someone, it also means a no, to someone or something else."

That’s been my struggle.
For years, I said yes to everyone else.
And little by little, I no’d the realest parts of myself into a corner.

Sound familiar?

A mentor once told me:
“You won’t be judged by your yeses. Anyone can say yes.
You’ll be judged by what you say no to. By where you draw the line.”

And I didn’t want to be judged.
So I kept saying yes.
Even when it came at a cost.
Even when I knew better.

So much of my growth in recent years has been about learning to say no.
To protect my yes.
To protect this yes, Azamra.

And this has never been clearer than in this application round.

With twice as many applicants as seats available, I could have filled this cohort in a heartbeat.
But I didn’t.
I still have open spots.
Not because the applications weren’t beautiful. They were.

But because not every applicant is a fit.
And as hard as it is to say no when you want to fill,
It’s even harder to step into a space that isn’t a fully aligned yes.

And that’s the lesson I keep coming back to.
Not every amazing person is meant for every space.
And not every no is a rejection. Sometimes it's a protection.
For the container. For the community. For the soul of the work.

Saying yes to Azamra means saying yes to:

A circle of deep listening, even when it’s uncomfortable

Being in integrity, especially when no one is watching

Seeing the good in one another and refusing to manage the room through gossip or triangulation

Owning your triggers instead of outsourcing them

Rooting for each other’s expansion

Letting breath, not control, lead the process

That’s the kind of YES I’ve spent my whole life craving.
And in order to protect that, I’ve had to say no.

Azamra isn’t a product. It’s not a transaction.
It’s not a place to test out your personality on others.
It’s not for people who want to process their projections at someone else’s expense.

It is a soul invitation.
A place of frequency, humility, song, and growth.
A place where you can come as you are, but only if you’re willing to evolve.

So yes, I’ve said some nos this season.
And I’ll say more if I have to.
Because every no is clearing space for a deeper, truer yes.

And if your whole being is a YES, not just to your own growth, but to the kind of shared container that requires reverence, trust, and alignment, then welcome home.

Time is running out to apply. We all know deadlines motivate and generate those last minute applications. However, my looming NO are those last minute applicants I’ll have to defer. And I will defer them, because fear of missing out, is not the same as a full bodied YES to the space. 

Imagine I told you applications close tonight…. Are you called to apply?

Don’t be the last minute applicant that I will need to say no to. 

Will you say yes? Apply Today. 

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* Funny story. When I moved into my office and arranged my books, one of my sons asked if I’d read them all. I said yes.
Then he asked if I knew where each book was placed. I said yes again.
So he started calling out titles, and I had to point to their spots with my back turned. I went 5 for 5.

Until he said, “Grow Up.”

I swore I didn’t own that book. He swore I did.
We went back and forth for a while.
Eventually, I gave in and turned around.

He was pointing at a book. But not just any book.
It was:

“Group” Gro-up

Touché, kid. Touché. (I still let him win.)

* Who am I kidding. Nothing brings me greater joy than a soft, fitted hoodie in the right color. We wore hoodies to my brother’s wedding last year. It’s practically mesorah. 

* Seriously though, if you’re one of those kindred souls who have been waiting a lifetime to say yes to yourself, this is the time, space, and the cohort to do it with. Apply here!