I wish I had an easy answer.

Or any answer.

You’d think, after a lifetime of experience, I’d be able to extract at least some guidelines.

Each case is different. Each sets its own parameters. But a review of all the times I’ve said no can form a pattern, paint a picture. This can help me as I’m confronted by a new situation and have to decide when, how, whether or not to say no, and prepare myself for the consequences.

An early no was to the Catholic church. They didn’t get to me soon enough.

I was in the fourth grade. The family forced me into Catholic school, and I went from a plaintive weak “I don’t wanna” to “I can do this” to concession “Yes, I could be another Cardinal Newman” to “You’ve let me see too much of your underpinnings, and it’s no, to the priesthood, goodbye Jesuits, goodbye church, goodbye religion.”

That no is characteristic and has carried me through my life. But it’s also reinforced the realization that for every no, there’s a yes.

When, in the eighth grade, I lost my religious faith because it couldn’t sustain itself, I also faced another no.

There was this girl, the only bright girl in the class, who took an interest in me and tried to show it.

I was young, naïve, inexperienced, scared, not ready, and proclaimed a no with a defensive cruelty I have regretted all my life because I’m not like that, I’m ashamed of having renounced my empathy, that my absolute adherence to good is not perfect and can be corrupted, betrayed, that I have caused hurt which I never wanted to do for anybody under any circumstances.

I said, “Your attentions are not welcomed.”

She betrayed no response, but I knew I had cut her to the quick.

I didn’t know what to do, how to repair the invisible damage, but graduated into high school carrying a lengthening chain of regret.

My increasing ability to re-align my mind, allowed me to see that early no as a release for the later yes which happily took over my life.

My yes to Shirley opened me to yes to life, the universe, everything.

She allowed me to become more fully what I am. A loving good person. And when she saw the evils in the world and said no to them, I, who had my own list, added my no to hers.

In unity there is strength.

And I have learned to be light on my feet, to change direction when my no is blocked, to find another way.

And when yes becomes no as things change, I am still learning how the carrier wave underpins a fluctuating superimposed message.

We all love Harry Potter, books and movies. But when J.K. Rowling went off the rails and we say no to her now, we still love Harry Potter and our early yes.

When Roseanne Barr early on gave us down-home funny and a yes, but now she’s off the rails and we say no, we mourn the loss, remember the yes, but are steadfast to no.

Schizophrenia is a concurrent yes and no. But what if it’s sequential? Can we change our minds, stop liking what we liked?

It’s complicated. I still haven’t worked it out.

I used to like Bill Cosby, played his comedy records, laughed at his sit-com where he was a role model for upwardly mobile African Americans in the white-collar upper middle class in a successful democracy.

But then came the revelation that he’s a monster. Was he all along? Was what was funny then now polluted by corruption and no longer funny?

Have we lost our bearings? Are we adrift?

Is there no anchor?

There’s always danger in taking things to their conclusion.

When the Pope speaks ex cathedra infallibly with the voice of God, and then the next Pope changes God’s mind, then God is not infallible and the whole structure collapses.

When the Mormon church excluded blacks by doctrine, but then the upwardly mobile blacks had tempting money, the Mormon God came back to re-write the doctrine and allow them to pay for access to the outer chambers only, we have to re-write the definition of religion to allow the unchangeable to say no to itself.

As muddy waters become clear when sediment sinks, and the current president admits he’s never read the Constitution he swore to uphold, of course he hasn’t, it has too many words, and he holds his bible upside down unread because it has words, but people are afraid to say no to him because he has seized power and can strike you down, when will we, can we say no?

We know what we know but so far are afraid to admit it in numbers large enough for no to become a new yes.

We know we’re dealing with an ignorant madman with a bloated but insecure ego. We see him deflating, leaking gas. We know he doesn’t read what he signs. We know he doesn’t know where he is or who he’s talking to.

We know he needs someone to read to him selected passages from his bedside copy of Mein Kampf, to explain to him what he believes. We know he lies his lies as the wind changes. “I didn’t mean what I said the way I said it.” “I was joking.” “Down is up, bad is good, and I know where you live.”

I’m proud of librarians who, not long ago, when ordered to give over their circulation records so the government would know who was reading what, the librarians said “No.”

The government retreated, regrouped, pretended to pass laws, came back and said “You have to” and the librarians said “No.”

We should all be librarians.

When the government seizes power and forces subservience, obviously doesn’t know what government is for, what democracy means or why it’s a good idea, the growing chorus of no is changing the landscape.

When the government becomes one branch, when the flood washes over everything, nature subsides the water and reveals the growing plants. Their bloom fills the air and covers the earth.

The leader whose feet are clay is standing on quicksand. He’s sinking. In the polls. In the world’s eyes. Until all that’s left is a toupee floating on the surface.

The time for the power of no is now.

No to wrong is yes to right.