YES

A Song of Spirit, Survival, and Success

Mini Marks had always felt things more deeply than most. When she was little, she could tell before the wind was going to change direction. At eight, she asked her father what a proton was made of. By twelve, she stopped saying grace before dinner—not out of rebellion, but because she felt there was more to contribute to the meal in silence than she could muster up while speaking aloud.

Now, at forty-five, Mini was preparing to take her monastic vows—not in a convent, but in a spiritual retreat high in the Blue Ridge Mountains, where she'd spent the last eighteen months in a near-total trance, studying traditions and spiritual practice from around the world. It was a place where people came not to escape the world, but to finally start resisting it; building for themselves a reality that harmonized with their inner most desires and longings.

The final step of her initiation required one thing: renunciation of everything she once claimed as identity—job titles, family names, even bank accounts—and a full-hearted, undivided yes to the Team, forever. But one thing held her back. 
 
Her Husband.

Robert Marks was a rational man. An accountant. Divorced once, and hardened by the grief, he loved Mini with a fierceness that was all structure and no poetry. He supported her journey, sure—but from a distance. Meditation, he could respect. Vows of silence, he could tolerate. But letting go of her name? Of him?

“No,” he said flatly, standing outside the retreat gate. “That’s not something I can agree to.”

Mini’s eyes were soft but clear. “I’m not asking you to agree. Just to let go.”

“You’re my only possession,” he said. “You’re the one who sat in my lap doing budget spreadsheets for fun. You’re my Mini Marks.”

“I was,” she said. “But I’m not just a name. I’m not your past or your plan. I’m not your 'yes girl.' This is the real yes. The yes to what I was born for.”

Back in his hotel room, Robert stared at an old photo: Mini at year five, standing in the backyard, arms wide to the sky, yelling “NO!” at a thunderstorm. Back then, he thought it was just childhood play. Now he wondered if it had always been prayer. How could he say yes to something when it meant saying goodbye to what he thought was his? But the deeper question haunted him more: What if saying no meant she never became who she was meant to be?

So, with his head in his hands and his tail in-tow, Robert thought once again of letting Mini pursue the life she had always dreamed of and he said:
 
YES.