There Are No Shortcuts in Yes

Over thirty years ago, I was an athlete, training for a sporting event when a car hit me. Both legs broken. Both knees destroyed. There was more damage too – but for the sake of this story, we'll focus on the legs.

The doctors were honest with me – my left leg, which took the brunt of the bumper, was bad, and there was a very good chance I might not walk again.

My father — the same man who taught me patience in a Palm Beach garden, who grew orchids with intention and purpose — leaned over me in the ER and said in his matter-of-fact way:

"Well Bug, it looks like you're going to have to rely on your brains and not your brawn now."

It's always easier to say no: I'm not this...I can't do that..I won't be this…I don't know that….

No doesn't require explanation. No doesn't require research, or sourcing, or sleepless nights wondering if you've overcommitted. No doesn't require hard work, long hours, or failure. No keeps you safely inside the boundaries of the cocoon you've built.

But no never got anyone anywhere worth going.

So when my father challenged me to use my brains and not my brawn, that's what I did. I strengthened mentally to strengthen physically. It wasn't easy. It wasn't pretty. And it hurt.

It still does, but no wasn't, and still isn't, an option.

So today, by my choice, I walk and challenge myself to say yes at every turn.

The accident isn't how I identify myself. But the choices I had to make shaped everything that came after.

My Philosophy of Yes

Yes is uncomfortable. Yes means you don't know exactly how it ends. Yes means you're going to have to dig deeper than you planned, try harder than you thought, and push through the moments where no would have been so much easier.

Entrepreneurs know this. Anyone who has ever built something from nothing knows this.

The difference between the ones who make it and the ones who don't isn't talent or luck or timing. It's the willingness to sit with the discomfort of yes long enough to find out what's on the other side.

I've never said no to a client. Not once. Because yes always teaches me the most.

The Order

Here's what that looks like in practice.

Not long ago a client came to me with a request that was, by any reasonable measure, a reach.

She is the kind of person who knows exactly what she wants and doesn't accept anything less. She didn't want anything from my existing collection. Not a scent I'd already made, not a vessel I already carried. She wanted something entirely bespoke — her colors, her aesthetic, her story, her brand translated into a candle that had never existed before.

New scent. New vessel. New everything. Eight weeks from yes to delivery.

The moment I said yes, the discomfort arrived right on schedule. The sourcing. The formulation. The back and forth of getting it exactly right. The quiet moments of wondering whether I'd overreached.

And over the years, here's what I've learned about yes: the difficulty isn't a sign you made the wrong call. The difficulty is the point. "You dig deeper. You get comfortable with uncomfortable. And the answer becomes the challenge."

Eight weeks later the candles were delivered. On time. She called to let me know they were perfect. Every detail we discussed, spot on. The fragrance, incredible – she could smell it as she came down the hallway to her office. She was elated. I just said yes.

What Yes Costs

Yes takes longer. Yes costs more. Yes might not work. Yes will push you into territory that feels unfamiliar and occasionally terrifying.

And yes is absolutely, unequivocally worth it.

Every time you say yes to something that stretches you, you expand what's possible. The uncomfortable thing becomes familiar. The reach becomes your new normal. The client you thought might be beyond you becomes your best testimonial.

There are no shortcuts in yes. That's not a warning — it's the whole point.

The Lessons Live On

My father taught me two things I carry everywhere.

In the garden, he taught me patience. That you tend something with intention and purpose, or you lose it. That the things worth having require time and attention and the willingness to keep showing up.

In the hospital room, he taught me something else. That the brain is the most powerful muscle we have. That strength is built from the inside out. That the answer is almost never no — it's not yet, keep going.

I pour every candle with both of those lessons in my hands.

And every time a client asks for something that scares me a little, I hear his voice.

Looks like you're going to have to rely on your brain.

Yes. Every time. Yes.

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Every Chez Shea candle — and every custom order — starts with a yes. Explore the Palm Beach Collection →

Breathe In What You Love.