Sometimes an opportunity begins with an extraordinarily small question: what if I just asked?
Not because we know the answer will be yes.
Not because we're entitled to what we're requesting.
Not because asking magically makes resources appear.
Simply because we don't actually know the answer yet.
Recently, I reached out to an art supply company.
I could have easily talked myself out of it:
- They probably won't be interested.
- I'm not big enough.
- They probably get requests all the time.
- Why would they help me?
Instead, I asked.
And they said yes.
They're sending me more than $100 worth of art materials.
That doesn't mean every company I contact says yes.
They absolutely don't.
Some decline.
Some don't have the resources.
Some opportunities aren't a good fit.
Some messages receive no response at all.
But those art supplies now exist in my creative life for one very simple reason: I gave someone the opportunity to say yes.
What Asking Actually Makes Possible
Of course, asking doesn't guarantee anything.
Some people will say no.
Some won't have the resources.
Some opportunities won't be a good fit.
Some messages won't receive a response at all.
And asking costs something from us, too:
- Time
- Research
- Energy
- Sometimes vulnerability
So this isn't an argument for asking everyone for everything or assuming that every question deserves a yes.
It's something much simpler: until we ask, we don't necessarily know the answer.
I've been learning just how many things in my life began because I asked a question.
Creative resources.
Community programs.
Scholarships.
Professional opportunities.
Support groups.
Food resources.
Disability resources.
Housing resources.
Connections with people and organizations I didn't previously know existed.
Sometimes I asked directly for something.
But sometimes the question was much broader: is there anything available that might help?
And the answer introduced me to something I didn't even know enough to ask for by name.
That's what makes asking so interesting.
A question might produce a yes.
It might produce a no.
It might produce: “We can't do that, but have you tried this?”
Or it might reveal an option we didn't know existed at all.
The power of asking isn't that asking guarantees a reward.
It's that asking allows an answer to exist.
We Say “No” for Other People All the Time
There are a remarkable number of ways to receive a rejection that nobody actually gave us.
- They probably won't help.
- I don't qualify.
- They don't have anything for someone like me.
- I'm too small.
- I'm not established enough.
- That's probably only for other people.
- They'll think it's weird that I asked.
- I don't want to bother anyone.
- What's the point?
And just like that, the conversation is over.
Except there never was a conversation.
Assumptions Can Feel Like Information
That's part of what makes this so easy to do.
We don't necessarily experience these thoughts as guesses.
They can feel like facts.
Of course that company won't be interested.
Obviously that organization can't help.
Surely I wouldn't qualify.
Everybody knows you can't just ask for something like that.
But... do we actually know?
Sometimes, yes.
Maybe we've read the eligibility requirements.
Maybe the organization explicitly says it doesn't provide what we're looking for.
Maybe someone already told us no.
Maybe we've researched enough to know that our time would be better spent somewhere else.
That's different.
But sometimes what we call knowing is really:
- I assume.
- I expect.
- I'm afraid.
- I'd feel uncomfortable asking.
Those aren't useless feelings.
They can tell us something important about ourselves and our experiences.
But they aren't necessarily information about the other person's answer.
We Try to Protect Ourselves From Rejection
There is a certain safety in never asking.
If we don't apply, we can't be rejected.
If we don't send the email, it can't be ignored.
If we don't tell someone we need help, they can't tell us they won't help.
If we don't ask whether an opportunity exists, we never have to hear that it doesn't.
The problem is that protecting ourselves from a possible no can also protect us from a possible yes.
And perhaps even more importantly, it can protect us from all the answers that aren't quite either:
- “We can't help with that, but this organization might.”
- “That program has ended, but we have another one.”
- “Not right now—contact us again in a few months.”
- “You don't qualify for this funding, but have you applied for this?”
- “I don't handle that, but I know who does.”
A question can produce information even when it doesn't produce what we originally hoped for.
Sometimes We Decide Who Resources Are “For”
This can happen with support resources especially.
We look at something and think:
- Someone else probably needs it more.
- I'm managing.
- I'm not “struggling enough.”
- They probably meant people in a different situation.
And sometimes eligibility really does have boundaries. Limited resources have to be distributed somehow.
But if an organization has established criteria, we don't necessarily need to create additional criteria for them.
If we're eligible, applying doesn't steal the organization's ability to decide how its resources should be used.
They can review the request.
They can prioritize.
They can say yes.
They can say no.
We can respect limited resources without automatically removing ourselves from consideration.
Jessica Carey
We Don't Have to Be Certain Before We Ask
Maybe that's another hidden barrier.
We think we're only allowed to ask when we're already fairly sure the answer will be yes.
But if we already knew the answer, we wouldn't really need to ask.
Questions exist partly because we don't know.
There can be something uncomfortable about admitting that:
- I don't know whether this is possible.
- I don't know whether I qualify.
- I don't know whether you would consider this.
- I don't know whether there's something available that I haven't found.
But those aren't failures of preparation.
Sometimes they're simply honest descriptions of where we are.
And a perfectly reasonable question can begin: “I'm not sure whether this is something you offer, but I wanted to ask...”
A Question Leaves the Decision Where It Belongs
Asking doesn't mean deciding that someone should help us.
It doesn't mean deciding that we deserve their resources.
It doesn't mean assuming the answer should be yes.
In a strange way, respectful asking does almost the opposite.
It says:
- Here is my situation.
- Here is what I'm wondering.
- You know your resources, boundaries, policies, and possibilities better than I do.
- What do you think?
Then we let them decide.
Maybe they say no.
That's information we didn't have before.
Maybe they say yes.
That's a possibility we might otherwise have eliminated.
Maybe they tell us something we didn't know enough to ask about.
And that's why one of the most useful distinctions might be remarkably simple: I don't think they'll say yes is not the same statement as: they said no.
Sometimes rejection really does come from the other side of the door.
But sometimes we've been standing outside, quietly saying no to ourselves.
You Can’t Ask for What You Don’t Know Exists
Sometimes asking gets us exactly what we asked for.
But some of the most valuable answers I've received have been things I didn't know enough to ask for.
I might begin with one question: is there anything that could help with this?
And hear:
- “Have you heard about this program?”
- “You might qualify for this.”
- “I know someone you should talk to.”
- “We can't provide that, but this organization might.”
Suddenly, the original question has opened into something much larger.
Because sometimes the biggest obstacle isn't that a resource doesn't exist.
It's that we don't know it exists.
We Can Only Search With the Information We Have
There is a frustrating problem with finding help:
To search for something, we usually need some idea of what we're searching for.
But how do we search for a program we've never heard of?
An organization whose name we don't know?
A scholarship we didn't know was available?
An accommodation we didn't realize we could request?
A company program that isn't prominently advertised?
A local group someone happens to know about through experience or community connections?
We can research.
Search websites.
Read resource lists.
Ask search engines.
Dig through directories.
And all of those things can help.
But there will always be information that lives inside other people's knowledge.
Sometimes a person knows something the internet didn't make obvious.
Sometimes they know the right terminology.
Sometimes they know who handles a particular issue.
Sometimes they know about a small local program.
Sometimes they've helped someone in a similar situation before.
And sometimes the most useful search tool available to us is simply: “Do you know of anything else I should look into?”
One Person Doesn't Have to Be the Answer
This has changed how I think about asking for help.
If I contact someone and they can't provide what I need, that doesn't necessarily mean the conversation has reached a dead end.
Maybe they know someone who can.
A company might not be able to offer a particular form of support but suggest another possibility.
A community organization might not provide a service itself but know which organization does.
An artist might mention a program.
Someone at that program might introduce another resource.
That resource might lead somewhere else.
The person we're asking doesn't always have to be the answer.
Sometimes they are the person who knows where the next question belongs.
Sometimes the Better Question Is Broader
One conversation can lead to an organization.
That organization can lead to a program.
The program can introduce another person.
And that person might know about a resource we never would have searched for on our own.
That's why access isn't only about whether resources exist.
It's also about whether people can find their way to them.
Sometimes we know exactly what we need:
- Do you offer scholarships?
- Would you consider donating materials?
- Is there financial assistance for this program?
Then being specific makes sense.
But when we don't know what possibilities exist, a broader question can create room for information we couldn't have requested by name:
- “Are there any other resources or options you think I should know about?”
- “If this isn't something you provide, do you know who might?”
- “Is there anything I haven't thought to ask about?”
Sometimes that becomes the most useful part of the conversation.
Information Is Help, Too
It's easy to measure assistance by what we physically receive.
Money.
Materials.
Food.
Transportation.
A reduced fee.
A scholarship.
Those things matter enormously.
But information can be a resource in its own right.
Knowing that a program exists.
Knowing what something is called.
Knowing where to apply.
Knowing who to contact.
Knowing that there's another option.
Knowing that something we assumed was impossible is actually worth exploring.
Information doesn't always solve the problem immediately.
But it can change what we're able to do next.
And sometimes that information eventually leads to tangible support.
Jessica Carey
Sometimes Asking Reveals the Door
We often talk about asking as though we're standing in front of a closed door deciding whether to knock.
But that isn't always what happens.
Sometimes we're standing in what appears to be an empty hallway.
We don't see a door.
We don't know there is a door.
We don't know what it's called, where it leads, or whether we're allowed to knock.
Then we ask someone a question.
And they point: there; have you tried that one?
Maybe it opens.
Maybe it doesn't.
Maybe it leads to another hallway.
But now there's somewhere to go that we couldn't see before.
That's another kind of power in asking.
Sometimes asking doesn't open the door.
Sometimes it reveals that the door was there at all.
Asking Isn’t the Same as Entitlement
There is a big difference between asking: “Would this be possible?” and declaring: “You should do this for me.”
One leaves room for an answer.
The other has already decided what the answer ought to be.
Maybe that's why asking sometimes gets tangled up with uncomfortable ideas about being demanding, needy, greedy, or entitled.
But having a need isn't entitlement.
Wanting something isn't entitlement.
Wondering whether help is available isn't entitlement.
Applying for a resource isn't entitlement.
Asking someone to consider something isn't entitlement.
Entitlement enters when we begin treating someone else's yes as something we're inherently owed.
A Healthy Ask Leaves Room for “No”
If we're genuinely asking, the other person has to be allowed to answer.
That includes answers we don't particularly like:
- “We don't have the funding.”
- “We aren't able to provide that.”
- “You don't qualify for this program.”
- “We aren't accepting collaborations right now.”
- “No, thank you.”
Disappointment is allowed.
We can wish the answer had been different.
We can even ask reasonable follow-up questions if something is unclear.
But eventually, a boundary is a boundary.
The power of asking depends partly on our willingness to let the answer belong to the person we're asking.
That's what makes it a request rather than a demand.
People Have Limits We May Know Nothing About
A no doesn't necessarily mean:
- Your request was ridiculous.
- You weren't worth helping.
- You shouldn't have asked.
Sometimes it simply means: we can't.
A nonprofit may have exhausted its funding.
A company may have a limited promotional budget.
A program may be full.
An individual may already be overwhelmed.
An organization may have restrictions on how its resources can be distributed.
The timing may simply be wrong.
We often can't see those circumstances from the outside.
That's another reason we don't need to turn every no into a judgment about whether asking was a mistake.
Sometimes a perfectly reasonable request meets a perfectly reasonable limitation.
Both can be true.
Respectful Asking Doesn't Require Making Yourself Small
There's another extreme we can fall into, too.
We become so afraid of seeming entitled that the request practically disappears:
- I'm so sorry to bother you.
- I completely understand that I'm probably asking too much.
- You definitely don't have to do anything.
- I'm sure you have much more important people to help.
- Sorry again for even asking.
By the time we reach the actual question, we've already spent half the message arguing against ourselves.
Respect doesn't require that.
We can be kind and direct:
- “I'm working on this project and wanted to ask whether your company ever considers material support for artists.”
- “I'm interested in participating, but the cost is a barrier. Are scholarships or reduced-fee options available?”
- “I'm looking for resources related to this need. Is there anything your organization offers or recommends?”
That's not demanding.
It's information.
A question.
And room for the other person to respond.
Help Doesn't Always Have to Be Earned Through Suffering
Sometimes we also treat resources as though we have to prove that we're desperate enough to deserve them.
We compare ourselves to imaginary people who need them more.
We minimize what would help us.
We wait until a problem becomes much worse.
But if a resource exists and we meet its criteria, we're allowed to ask about it before everything falls apart.
A scholarship doesn't necessarily require us to be completely unable to participate otherwise.
A community resource doesn't necessarily require us to be at our absolute breaking point.
A company doesn't necessarily need an elaborate story of hardship before it can decide that supporting someone's creative work sounds worthwhile.
Different resources exist for different reasons.
We can explain our circumstances honestly without turning our lives into an audition for compassion.
Jessica Carey
Gratitude Isn’t Indebtedness
When someone does say yes, gratitude matters.
Someone chose to share resources.
Offer information.
Make an introduction.
Reduce a fee.
Donate materials.
Spend time helping.
It's worth recognizing that generosity.
But receiving help doesn't necessarily create an unlimited debt.
Healthy support doesn't mean: you helped me once, so now I owe you whatever you want forever.
And genuine gratitude doesn't require making ourselves smaller than the person who helped us.
Sometimes the appropriate response really can be: thank you; this helps me.
Maybe we pay that kindness forward someday.
Maybe a collaboration grows naturally.
Maybe we publicly acknowledge support when that's appropriate and agreed upon.
Maybe we simply use the opportunity well.
Help can be meaningful without becoming a transaction in which every kindness must be repaid in equal measure.
Asking Gives Someone an Opportunity to Choose
This may be the simplest distinction.
Entitlement says: you owe me a yes.
Healthy asking says: I'm giving you the opportunity to consider this.
That means we don't have to feel ashamed for making the request.
And the other person doesn't have to feel ashamed for declining it.
We ask honestly.
They answer honestly.
If it's no, we respect it.
If it's yes, we receive it with appreciation.
If it's not this, but maybe that, we follow the new possibility.
There is dignity on both sides of that exchange.
Because asking for help isn't the same thing as demanding help.
Sometimes it's simply allowing another human being—or organization—to know what would help and letting them decide what they're willing and able to do.
Asking Has a Cost—But So Does Never Asking
Asking isn't free.
Sometimes it takes five minutes.
Sometimes it takes an hour of research just to figure out who the right person is.
We write the email.
Rewrite the email.
Check the website.
Find the contact information.
Explain the situation.
Wait.
Wonder whether we'll hear back.
And sometimes, after all of that: no.
Or nothing.
No response.
No opportunity.
No resource.
Just the time and energy we spent asking.
That's real.
But so is the potential cost of never asking at all.
Not Every Possibility Is Worth Pursuing
There is a version of “just ask!” that can become exhausting.
Contact every company.
Apply for every opportunity.
Email every organization.
Follow every lead.
Send another message.
Then another.
Then another.
Eventually, trying to find resources can become a full-time job of its own.
And there is a point where the effort required to pursue something outweighs what we're realistically likely to gain from it.
If I spend three hours applying for a $10 opportunity I barely qualify for, perhaps that wasn't the best use of three hours.
If an organization's website clearly says: “We do not provide individual financial assistance,” sending them a lengthy request for individual financial assistance probably isn't a particularly useful experiment.
Being willing to ask doesn't require abandoning discernment.
The goal isn't to pursue every possible door.
It's to stop automatically walking past reasonable ones.
A Small Ask Can Have an Uneven Return
This is where asking becomes interesting.
The cost and the potential result aren't always proportional.
One thoughtful email might take twenty minutes and lead nowhere.
Another twenty-minute email might lead to materials.
A question about affordability might uncover a scholarship worth far more than the time it took to ask.
A conversation might reveal a free program we otherwise would have paid to access somewhere else.
A request for information might connect us with someone who becomes helpful months later.
We usually don't know which question will be consequential before we ask it.
That's what makes the calculation imperfect.
If every request came with a little label—
87% chance of success
Potential value: $150
Estimated effort: 14 minutes
—resource hunting would be considerably easier.
Unfortunately, life has neglected to install that feature.
So sometimes we make reasonable bets.
A “No” Is Still Information
A no doesn't give us what we wanted.
And yes, sometimes it hurts.
Especially when we genuinely needed what we were asking for.
Especially when we'd gotten our hopes up.
Especially when asking required vulnerability in the first place.
But rejection can still tell us something:
- This company isn't pursuing collaborations right now.
- This program doesn't fit my circumstances.
- This organization doesn't provide this service.
- This person isn't the right contact.
Sometimes it even comes with another possibility:
- “We can't help, but try them.”
- “Applications are closed now, but reopen in October.”
- “You don't qualify for this program, but you may qualify for another.”
The original request didn't work.
We don't have to pretend otherwise.
But now we know something we didn't know before.
And perhaps becoming more comfortable with asking doesn't require becoming completely unaffected by rejection.
It means learning that a reasonable request can receive a no without the question itself having been wrong.
Timing Matters More Than We Sometimes Realize
A no can also belong to a particular moment.
An organization might genuinely want to help but lack resources right now.
A company might already have committed its budget.
A program might be full.
An opportunity might only open once a year.
Someone might simply have too much on their plate.
That doesn't mean every no secretly means ask again until they surrender.
No still means no.
But sometimes the information surrounding the no tells us:
- Not now.
- Not through this program.
- Not in this form.
- Not from us.
And those distinctions can matter when deciding what to do next.
The Question Is Whether the Ask Is Worth the Attempt
Maybe that's the healthier calculation.
Not: will this definitely work?
We often can't know that.
And not: could this theoretically work?
Almost anything could.
Instead: is this possibility reasonable enough that it's worth some of my limited time and energy to find out?
Sometimes the answer will be no.
Skip it.
Protect the energy.
Move toward something more promising.
But sometimes the answer will be:
- It's worth an email.
- It's worth filling out the form.
- It's worth asking whether they offer assistance.
- It's worth seeing what they say.
Then ask.
The outcome might be nothing.
Or the return might be wildly disproportionate to the effort it took to send the question.
We don't need to chase every possibility.
But we also don't need a guarantee before we're willing to try.
Sometimes a reasonable chance is reason enough to ask.
Sometimes Asking Is Something We Have to Learn
For some people, asking comes naturally.
They need something.
They wonder whether someone can help.
So they ask.
For others, there can be an enormous invisible distance between: I need something and I can tell someone that I need it.
Maybe asking feels embarrassing.
Weak.
Demanding.
Selfish.
Uncomfortable.
Unsafe.
Maybe we learned somewhere along the way that capable people handle things themselves.
That good people don't inconvenience anyone.
That other people's needs matter more.
That asking for help means we've failed to manage our own lives.
And eventually, we may stop needing anyone else to tell us not to ask.
We learn to silence the question ourselves.
We Learn Rules About Having Needs
Not all of these lessons are taught explicitly.
Someone doesn't necessarily sit us down and say: you are never allowed to need anything from another person.
The lesson can arrive in smaller ways.
Being made to feel guilty when we need help.
Watching people mock someone for accepting assistance.
Hearing resources described as being for people who really need them.
Being praised for never causing trouble.
Learning that independence is admirable while dependence is shameful.
Being treated as difficult when we express a need.
Watching requests become arguments.
Being reminded of everything someone has ever done for us whenever we ask for something else.
Eventually, asking can begin to feel much bigger than the question itself.
We're not simply wondering: could you help me with this?
We may also be fighting an internal message: you shouldn't need help in the first place.
Hyper-Independence Can Look Like Strength
There is something culturally appealing about the person who does everything alone.
They don't need anyone.
They figure it out.
Push through.
Handle it.
Never complain.
Never ask.
And sometimes independence genuinely is valuable.
Being resourceful matters.
Learning skills matters.
Solving our own problems when we can matters.
But there is a difference between: I can do this myself and: I must do everything myself because needing another person feels unacceptable.
The second may look like independence from the outside.
Inside, it can be something much more restrictive.
Because human beings have always depended on other human beings.
We exchange knowledge.
Share resources.
Teach one another.
Recommend opportunities.
Make introductions.
Trade skills.
Care for one another.
Build communities.
Needing other people sometimes isn't a failure to become independent enough.
It's part of being a person among other people.
Jessica Carey
Pride Isn't Always the Whole Story
It's easy to look at someone who won't ask for help and think: they're too proud.
Sometimes that's true.
But sometimes what looks like pride is fear.
Or shame.
Or conditioning.
Or repeated experiences of asking and being dismissed.
Or uncertainty about what we're even allowed to ask for.
Someone may worry:
- What if they think I'm taking advantage?
- What if they think I should be able to handle this myself?
- What if someone else deserves it more?
- What if they say yes and now I owe them?
- What if they use the help against me later?
Those fears don't necessarily disappear because someone says: “Just ask!”
Sometimes asking has to become something we practice.
Receiving Can Be a Skill Too
Even after someone says yes, another difficulty can appear.
We have to receive the help.
That can be surprisingly uncomfortable.
Someone offers materials and we immediately think we should refuse.
Someone tells us about a scholarship and we wonder whether we should leave it for somebody else.
Someone offers to make an introduction and we don't want to inconvenience them.
Someone says: “I can help.”
And our instinct is: No, no, it's okay. I'll figure something out.
Sometimes we become so practiced at surviving without support that accepting support feels stranger than struggling.
But if someone freely offers something they're comfortable giving, accepting doesn't automatically make us greedy.
We can say: thank you. Yes, that would help.
And let it help.
We Don't Have to Earn the Right to Ask
This might be one of the hardest beliefs to unlearn.
That before we ask, we need to prove something.
That we've tried absolutely everything ourselves.
That we're struggling enough.
That we've worked hard enough.
That we're deserving enough.
That we're useful enough to the person we're asking.
That we can offer something equally valuable in return.
But a question doesn't require all of that.
Sometimes we're allowed to ask simply because we don't know whether something is possible.
The other person still gets to decide.
They can consider their resources.
Their boundaries.
Their priorities.
Their interest.
We don't have to decide for them that we haven't earned the right to be considered.
Asking Can Become Practice
Maybe the first questions are small:
- Do you offer a reduced rate?
- Is there financial assistance available?
- Do you know of any resources I should look into?
- Would you be open to discussing a collaboration?
- Could you point me toward someone who might know more about this?
And perhaps the answer is no.
We survive it.
Then we ask something else.
Eventually, a yes arrives.
Maybe another.
Maybe a “not us, but try them.”
And slowly, asking becomes less like violating some invisible rule and more like what it actually is: one of the ways human beings find out what is possible.
Maybe the Question Isn't “Should I Need Help?”
Sometimes we become so focused on whether we should need something that we never reach the practical question.
But needing fewer resources doesn't magically create them.
Feeling ashamed of needing help doesn't solve the need.
Refusing support doesn't necessarily make us stronger.
So, perhaps instead of asking: shouldn't I be able to do this alone?
We can ask:
- What would help?
- What resources exist?
- Who might know something I don't?
- What reasonable question could I ask next?
We may still feel uncomfortable.
We may still dislike rejection.
We may still have old messages telling us to stay quiet and figure everything out ourselves.
Learning to ask doesn't necessarily mean those messages disappear overnight.
Sometimes it means hearing them and asking anyway.
Because asking for help isn't proof that we've failed to become self-sufficient.
Sometimes asking is one of the ways we help ourselves.
One Question Can Lead Somewhere You Couldn’t Have Planned
One of the strange things about asking is that we rarely know where a question will end.
We think we're asking about one thing.
A resource.
A program.
A collaboration.
A scholarship.
An introduction.
Some information.
And maybe that's exactly what we receive.
But sometimes the answer creates another possibility.
Then another.
And suddenly we're somewhere we couldn't have planned our way into from the beginning.
Opportunities Can Branch
Imagine asking an organization about a program.
Maybe they say: “That isn't something we offer, but you should talk to this person.”
So, you contact that person.
They mention an organization you've never heard of.
That organization has an event.
At the event, you meet someone working on something related to what you do.
Months later, that person remembers you when another opportunity appears.
None of that was contained in the original question.
You couldn't have asked: “Could you please introduce me to the person I'm going to meet three steps from now who might eventually know about an opportunity that doesn't exist yet?”
You didn't know enough.
You simply asked the question that was available now.
And the path grew from there.
A Yes Can Be a Beginning
Sometimes we think of receiving help as the end of an exchange.
We asked.
They said yes.
We received the resource.
Done.
And sometimes that really is all it needs to be.
But a yes can also begin a relationship.
A company supports a creative project.
An organization helps someone access a program.
A professional answers a question.
Someone makes an introduction.
We follow through.
Communicate well.
Use the opportunity.
Express genuine appreciation.
Maybe nothing else happens.
Or perhaps, over time, trust grows.
Another conversation happens.
Someone sees what came from the original support.
A new possibility appears.
The important thing is that we don't have to force any of that.
We don't need to receive one yes and immediately start calculating how to turn it into five more.
Sometimes the healthiest thing we can do with an opportunity is simply show up well for the opportunity we actually received.
Then let whatever grows from it grow naturally.
Relationships Can Become Resources Without Becoming Transactions
There's an important distinction here.
Being open to opportunities doesn't mean viewing every person as: what can I get from you?
People aren't vending machines for resources.
Relationships have value beyond what they can provide us.
But relationships also naturally involve exchange.
People share information.
Recommend things.
Teach one another.
Make introductions.
Notice opportunities that remind them of someone.
Offer skills.
Ask for help themselves.
That's part of community.
And we usually can't see where those relationships—or the questions that begin them—will lead.
Sometimes the information required for step four only becomes available after step one.
We ask.
Learn something.
Adjust.
Ask another question.
Discover another possibility.
The path becomes visible while we're walking it.
Many paths won't lead somewhere extraordinary.
Some questions receive no response.
Some introductions go nowhere.
Some opportunities remain one-time opportunities.
That's okay.
We don't have to know which questions will become consequential before we're allowed to ask them.
Sometimes we only need to know: what is the reasonable next question?
Ask that one.
Then pay attention to the answer.
One question doesn't have to contain the whole path.
Sometimes it only has to reveal the next step.
Jessica Carey
Let Them Answer
Maybe the answer will be no.
That's part of asking.
The company may not have the resources.
The program may not be a fit.
The scholarship may go to someone else.
The person may not have the time.
Sometimes we won't receive an answer at all.
We don't have to pretend those outcomes aren't disappointing.
But we also don't need to predict them before they happen.
We don't need to convince ourselves: they'll definitely say yes.
We only need to decide: this is reasonable enough to ask.
Then ask.
Respect the answer.
Appreciate generosity when it appears.
Protect our time and energy when something isn't going anywhere.
And pay attention when an answer points somewhere we hadn't considered.
Some doors really will be closed.
Some aren't ours to enter.
Some aren't worth the energy required to reach them.
But every once in a while, we'll knock on one we weren't sure would open—and hear: yes.
Maybe that yes becomes funding.
Materials.
Information.
An introduction.
An accommodation.
A scholarship.
A connection.
Or simply the next question worth asking.
We couldn't guarantee any of that beforehand.
That's the point.
We don't have to chase every possibility.
We don't have to ask everyone for everything.
And we don't have to pretend rejection doesn't sting.
But perhaps we can stop turning: they might say no into: so, I won't ask.
If the request is reasonable and the possibility is worth the effort, ask the question.
Then let the answer belong to the person who actually knows it.
Because a possibility we explore might become a yes or a no.
A possibility we reject for ourselves never gets the chance to become anything else.
So, when there's a reasonable door worth knocking on, perhaps we don't need to stand outside convincing ourselves we already know what's behind it.
Knock.
And let them answer.
Want even more content about creativity and art?
Be sure to check out all of our creative chronicles!
If you'd like to see examples of my work, you can find some of my art and creations at Redbubble and Gumroad!
Looking to learn more about my recent journey?
Check out some of these articles:
-Hidden Gems for St. Louis Artists
-I Wasn't Broken--I'm Burned Out
-The Difference Between Resting and Giving Up
Jessica Carey
