“I HATE tomatoes!”
My friend was adamant as he slid the plate of freshly sliced red veggies to the other end of the table.
“Trust me,” he said. “I just don’t like them. Never have, never will.”
It was early fall, and we were enjoying a delicious, home-cooked meal, made with ingredients bought from the farmer’s market that morning. Everything looked and smelled amazing, but my friend simply refused to try the juicy heirloom tomatoes that were newly in season.
“My guess is you’ve never tasted a real tomato before. You can’t possibly hate these,” I tried to coax him. “Please, just take one bite.”
“Uhhhhh…”
“I promise it won’t kill you. And you can blame me forever if you really don’t like it.”
“Okay, fine” he reluctantly mumbled. “But pass me that salt!”
He took a thin slice topped with plenty of sea salt, olive oil, and basil, then cautiously took one small bite. After chewing for a few seconds, his facial features revealed no sign of approval or displeasure. Then slowly, as he devoured the last bite of tomato, his head began to nod. Without saying a word, a sheepish smile crept across his face as he reached for the plate of tomatoes to grab another slice.
“YES! Haha,” I said excitedly. “I knew you would love it!”
And it was true—He couldn’t get enough. For the rest of the night he ate his fair share of the tomatoes, and wanted to know how he could prepare them for himself next time. He ordered tomatoes with everything he ate that week, learning the difference between conventional and organic, as well as the heirloom variety sold at the farmer’s market. His decision that night to ignore a misguided belief about what tomatoes could taste like exposed him to a whole new world of flavor he’d been denying himself for years. It was like witnessing a child discover the spoken word for the first time.
It made me think—Everyone probably has their own version of “hating tomatoes.”
I’m sure there are ideas or experiences we all deny ourselves because of false assumptions or limiting beliefs. These self-imposed limitations are likely so engrained in our decision making we don’t even realize they are there. But they exist. And that’s a shame when I think about the joy my friend experienced when he finally tasted a delicious tomato for the first time in his life.
So how do we stop denying ourselves potentially rich and meaningful experiences? How can we move beyond our predisposed limiting beliefs?
Maybe the answer lies in one word.
A famous maxim among those who practice improv comedy is the idea of “say yes.” When presented with a choice, the default answer is to always respond with an enthusiastic “YES!” If you want to build upon the offer, the appropriate response would be “yes, and…” This builds trust among fellow performers, and keeps the act flowing and engaging for the audience.
Applying this maxim to daily life choices could help us overcome our inherent biases. Saying “yes” broadens our potential for new experiences, while reflexively responding with “no,” “but,” or “maybe” does nothing but perpetuate the status quo. The former is an enabler for growth and learning, while the latter reinforces engrained beliefs and a limited worldview.
So how can we train ourselves to say “yes” more?
As a good friend of mine often says, the way we do one thing is the way we do everything. Maybe having an adventurous palette can help influence the way we make other decisions in our lives, similar to the way going to the gym is a gateway behavior for other healthy habits (i.e. eating right, sleeping more). If we learn to say yes to trying new foods, that thought process might reflexively seep into the way we act in other situations. It might become less scary to test prior assumptions, and we may expose ourselves to new ways of thinking and feeling we never truly considered before.
But can something as simple as a dining decision help train us to become more open-minded? Will learning to enjoy a food we used to hate make it easier to have an open mind with bigger decisions we’re confronted with every day?
There’s no way to know for sure, but my guess is simple.
Yes.