Embracing the Eccentric: The Lifelong Adventure of Saying Yes, with Intention
By Nicole Miller
We’ve all seen the movie Yes Man, where Jim Carrey’s character, Carl, says yes to everything to change his life. While his approach seems freeing, it misses a key ingredient: intention. Saying "yes" isn’t about saying yes to everything—it’s about saying yes to the right things, those that challenge and stretch us, filling life with purpose and meaning. Saying “yes” with intention can unlock a lifetime of growth—not just when we’re young, but as a mindset that reshapes how we experience the world at any age.
The Ice Hockey Teacher: A Lesson in Lifelong Learning
I was five years old when I first witnessed the magic of an intentional yes. My petite 1st-grade teacher was a woman who exuded warmth and kindness, and one year, she decided to do something completely unexpected. She decided to take up ice hockey.
I can still picture it vividly: this delicate-looking teacher, her long French braid trailing behind her, suiting up for one of the most aggressive sports on ice. Most adults would hesitate to take on something so intense—especially without any clear end goal. But she didn’t hesitate. She just decided to try.
To me, it was profound. That small decision stayed with me throughout my life, teaching me that neither learning nor drive expire if you don’t let them. It’s not something that ends once you finish school or have children. It’s a lifelong adventure, just waiting for you to say yes.
The Eccentric Lifestyle: Making Yes a Habit
As I grew older, I embraced my own version of this lesson. Every year, on my birthday, I challenge myself to learn a new skill or take up a new hobby. While some might call me an eccentric hobbyist or a degree collector, I find beauty in the act of intentionally choosing something that stretches me.
Some years, it’s something physical—like learning to skate or taking a cooking class. Other years, it’s more cerebral, like diving deeper into an obscure language or musical instrument. But no matter what, each new skill brings something invaluable to my life: curiosity and growth.
It’s funny how curiosity has a way of showing up in unexpected places. One of the most defining experiences was in Japan, where I found myself waking up in a Buddhist monastery, nestled high in the mountains. The crisp, fresh air felt like it was cleansing me from the inside out. As the bell tolled and I joined the monks for morning meditation, the sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and pink. In that stillness, I realized: growth often happens in the most unexpected places, when you follow curiosity to the farthest edges of the familiar.
And it was all because I said yes. I’d never have experienced that remote monastery or participated in a week-long silent retreat if I hadn’t followed my curiosity to Japan in the first place. It was the culmination of a series of small yeses, each one leading me further into the unknown. That’s the beauty of saying yes: it doesn’t always lead where you expect, but it always leads somewhere worthwhile.
Novelty: The Secret to Expanding Time
One of the most surprising lessons I’ve learned over the years is that novelty not only expands our perception of time—it also fuels our intellectual curiosity.
When we’re kids, summers feel endless. Everything is new—the bike routes, the friendships, the adventures. But as we get older, time seems to compress into routines: deadlines, to-do lists, grocery runs.
Here’s the secret that neuroscientists know: new experiences stretch time. They demand presence, attention, and awareness. And when we’re present in our experiences, they feel richer and fuller, and ultimately, our lives seem longer—more meaningful.
Take scuba diving, for example. My first dive in Mexico at the age of ten was a turning point. The water was warm, the visibility breathtaking, and I was hooked. It wasn’t just the thrill of exploring the underwater world—it was the sense of adventure, the hunger to learn more. That first yes led me to get certified in college and then study nautical archaeology. One thing led to another, and I found myself volunteering on an archaeological dig in St. Augustine, the oldest city in the U.S. Each step built upon the last, and none of it would have happened if I hadn’t said yes to that first, nerve-wracking dive.
The Academic Thread: Lifelong Curiosity
Curiosity has been my constant companion throughout my life. I’ve been a student of everything, making my resume look like the love child of Indiana Jones and a librarian’s daydream. Sociology, psychology, Latin American studies, languages, anthropology… you name it. If it involved people and culture, I was in. I packed every semester with as many credits as possible because the world was just too fascinating to ignore.
But my curiosity didn’t stop in the classroom. It carried me through my personal adventures, including travels to far-flung places and deep dives into unexpected hobbies. My parents, bless them, didn’t just support my eccentricity—they encouraged it. From studying Buddhism in Japan to sweating through archaeological digs in the St. Augustine heat, they understood something essential about curiosity: It’s not a phase. It’s the foundation of how I live, how I move through the world, and how I grow.
Scuba Diving: When Curiosity Meets Illness
Life doesn’t always follow our plans. For me, it threw a curveball in the form of chronic Lyme disease—a condition that shifted everything from my physical health to my sense of identity. I went from being an unstoppable collegiate soccer player to someone who could barely make it across campus.
Scuba diving was the first time I felt completely immersed in a new world, and I was instantly hooked from childhood, where the silence, colors, and awe of it all captured my imagination off the Mexican coast. Later, in college, I dreamed of becoming a nautical archaeologist—uncovering sunken cities and civilizations buried beneath the sea.
But Lyme disease changed all of that. It slowed me down in ways I never imagined. And yet, despite the physical limitations, my curiosity didn’t fade. It just asked me to find new ways to stretch and grow.
I learned that sometimes, growth isn’t about pushing through. Sometimes, it’s about embracing the detour and allowing life to guide you in new, unexpected ways.
Learning to Fly: A New Challenge with New Limits
My life has been a series of new skills, challenges, and hobbies—each a chapter in my ongoing journey of curiosity and growth. But over time, I realized that real growth doesn’t happen when you rush through things—it happens when you slow down and let the journey unfold. The habit of “mastering it and moving on” worked for me in the past, but it wasn’t sustainable.
So, when I decided to learn to fly, it wasn’t just about checking off another adventure—it was about creating a lifelong relationship with something that could evolve with me. Whether it’s backcountry flying, floatplanes, or multi-engine certificates, flying was the new skill that would stretch me and keep me learning for decades.
Flying, I realized, was more than just a challenge—it became a metaphor for life itself. As I learned to navigate the skies, I also embraced the unknown with confidence, accepting that growth doesn’t have to be rushed. It was the first big risk I took after finding my new equilibrium, and it opened my eyes to how learning can be a lifelong adventure, not something that ends once you “master” it.
In the past, I thrived on quickly learning new skills and moving on. But with flying, I wanted more—I wanted to build a passion, not just a collection of accomplishments. I didn’t rush through flight school or check boxes. I took my time, savoring each lesson and letting the process unfold at its own pace. This shift in mindset has been one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Flying isn’t just a skill—it’s an ongoing adventure that will continue to grow and evolve with me for years to come.
YES Becomes a Brand: Crafting a Purposeful Life
Over the years, these intentional yeses have formed the basis of something I never expected—Your Eccentric Sister: Writing & Luxury Travel. What started as a collection of random side quests and hobbies became a business that allows me to help others craft purposeful journeys, both in travel and in life.
The heart of my business is The Well-Traveled Decade, a living blueprint for a life well-explored. It’s a decade-long plan to craft deeply researched, purpose-driven journeys—experiences that not only spark curiosity but also foster growth. The goal isn’t a “perfect trip” or “perfect life”—it’s about creating a rhythm of meaningful seasons that align with curiosity, personal development, and intention.
This philosophy of saying yes is woven into every aspect of my life—whether I’m exploring new destinations, publishing my writing, or planning small group hosted trips steeped in unique experiences.
The Takeaway: Growth as a Practice
What I want to leave you with today is simple: Growth isn’t a destination. It’s a practice.
A series of intentional yeses—not just to things that stretch you, challenge you, or even scare you—but to things that will help you expand your reality. Things that will make your life feel fuller, richer, and more vivid.
Just like my teacher who donned hockey gear despite looking like she had no business on the ice, you don’t need permission to pursue growth. You just need to give yourself the gift of saying yes.
So, let me ask you: What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try, but haven’t yet? What if you said yes to it today—not just as a leap of faith, but as an intentional step toward growth? What could that “yes” unlock for your future?