Yellow Doors
The most rewarding experiences sometimes come from unexpected places. On taking chances, and what comes next after we say yes.
A few weeks ago, I heard Daniel Coyle talk about his latest book, Flourish. During the conversation, he mentioned that the idea that readers have most frequently connected with is the concept of “yellow doors” that appears in the epilogue.1
The idea is that while we normally go through life alert to clear, unmistakable signals—that is, green doors that are open and red doors that are closed—life deepens when we become aware of the yellow doors, the ones we glimpse out of the corner of our eye.
I was initially surprised (and a little embarrassed) by this. When I read the book, I highlighted a number of passages. The section on yellow doors wasn’t among them.
But it makes sense that it would resonate with a wide range of readers. The idea is easy to understand and, more importantly, it has a strong emotional component. For some, yellow doors are the choices they dared to make that changed their lives. For others, they’re the missed opportunities and what ifs they still think about to this day.
As I listened to Coyle talk, I began to reflect on my own experiences. My career has had its fair share of yellow door moments. Each time, I agonized over the decision before ultimately saying yes and stepping into a new and uncertain reality.
Eventually those decisions proved beneficial, creating lasting relationships and pushing me to grow in ways I wouldn’t have otherwise. But there was always a lag between the decision and the payoff. Because, for me, the hard part has never been stepping through the door. It’s been embracing the choice once I made it.
Yellow doors often lead to new experiences. And new experiences — while exciting and ultimately worthwhile — put us back in the unwanted position of being a novice again. Even the most self-assured people can find themselves embarrassed, frustrated, and afraid of what others will think of them when they’re forced to start something new.
The irony is that the best way through the novice phase is to lean into the uncomfortable feelings — to channel our child-like qualities, and let curiosity and experimentation guide us.
Far more often, pride gets in the way and we do the opposite. We hold back questions, avoid situations where we might fail, and give up too soon. We’re so concerned with perception that we don’t allow ourselves to learn and get better.
That’s been my experience in every new role I’ve taken. In my last job, I spent the first six months trying to prove myself in another equally destructive way: by mimicking my previous boss. Turns out, I’m not him, and while he was great in his role, I was never going to succeed in the same way. It wasn’t until I realized what I was doing that I could drop my ego and finally start doing the job.
Most people don’t struggle to find, or even take, opportunities. The struggle comes after walking through the door. We get in our own way, letting fear and hubris keep us from really giving the opportunity a chance.
It’s often said that fortune favors the bold. But it’s important to understand what it means to be bold. Bold people aren’t fearless. They’re as scared as the rest of us, but they acknowledge their fear and act in spite of it.
The takeaway isn’t to blindly take every yellow door that appears — they’re yellow for a reason, after all.2 But when you do decide to walk through a door, do more than merely say yes. Walk through with your eyes wide, your mind open, and your pride tucked safely away. Accept that things will be messy and enjoy the ride. Otherwise, you might as well not walk through the door at all.
It’s kind of amazing that the idea that readers most fully embraced isn’t mentioned for the first 90% of the book. It shows that people are reading the whole book, and that it’s a successful way to pull together the core themes.
Don’t be Jim Carrey’s character in Yes Man.