“Please take off your shoes,” I said.
“Why?” Bert asked, eyeing me with skepticism.
He’d been to see me a few times already—same story each time. Stuck. Stalled. Frustrated at work.
That day, something nudged me to ask him to remove his shoes. Odd? Maybe. But I’ve learned to trust those nudges.
Bert hesitated, then complied. I turned his shoes around so he could see them.
“Your left heel’s worn down, but the right one’s fine. That tells me you’re carrying deep anger—at your father, most likely. And it’s literally throwing you off balance.”
We talked. He released some of what he’d been holding. When we bury emotions, they don’t disappear—they burrow in. But if we name them, feel them, let them go… they transform.
As we wrapped up, Bert mentioned a friend running a comic book convention who couldn’t afford help.
“Would you be willing to volunteer?”
And I said the five words that would shift my entire path:
“Sure, why not.”
That one yes opened a door.
I met Fred Greenberg, founder of the Great Eastern Comic Book Convention. He handed me a box of Classic Illustrated comics as a thank you. Then one day, he asked if I could take him to meet Stan Lee. His car was on the fritz. Mine wasn't. Stan Lee was a Marvel Comics writer and creator of many of the characters.
Before I left, I told my son. “Want me to say anything to Stan Lee?”
He told me which Superman story he loved. And then added, “Writers don’t make much money, right?”
Eight years old and already practical.
At Marvel, Stan was warm, humble. I passed along my son’s message. Then I mentioned his comment about writers.
Stan chuckled. “Tell your son—don’t write for money. Only write if you love it. If you have to.”
That moment stuck with my son. Today, he teaches game design and writes for educational books—creating in ways that light him up.
More yeses followed.
Fred asked if I could pick up two comic artists from Boston.
“You’ve got the only decent car,” he said.
So I brought my son Jesse with me to Grand Central. Two men stepped off the train.
“What do you write?” Jesse asked.
They answered in sync:
“Ninja Turtles.”
Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. Jesse’s heroes. They chatted like old friends, posed for photos, and casually mentioned they'd just signed with Disney.
That memory still lives on Jesse’s bookshelf—and in his heart.
Another “yes.” Another ripple of unexpected magic.
A young woman staying with us came to the convention that weekend. She met someone there.
She brought him home thinking he'd be perfect for my daughter.
He's my son-in-law. Her intuition was confirmed.
One “Sure, why not”...
and a future family unfolded.
Trust the Whisper, Welcome the Wonder
The logical mind says: “That’s random.”
But intuition? It nudges. It whispers. It opens doors you didn’t know were there.
What if your next “yes” leads to a synchronicity that changes everything?
What if the silly-seeming thing turns into the story you’ll tell for years?
What if saying “Sure, why not” isn’t just about helping someone else—
but unlocking something inside yourself?
Go ahead.
Say yes to the unknown.
The wonder is already on its way.
May your path be filled with love and light,
Nancy
