Permission and Other Elusive Things

The view from the top of the slide, Horizon Perfekt, Lomo 100 Chrome xpro film

You are allowed to be quiet, to rest, to take a few days off. To admit that you are weary.

You are allowed to slow down, and to feel the sadness that so often rises to the top when you do.

You are allowed to surround youself with people who feel cozy and safe.

You are allowed to still feel that pain in your chest, even after all this time.

You are allowed to prefer making things to talking about them.

You are allowed to make requests. Even the ones that make you feel vulnerable.

You are allowed to have stories that are complicated. To struggle to understand them yourself.

You are allowed to ask the same questions for years and years. To have a hard time believing the answers, even though everyone else seems to have known them all along.

You are allowed to feel brilliant and remedial at the same time. To go at your own pace.

You are allowed to have moments where you feel your own beauty, despite your complexion and untamed hair and frown lines. (And so many other things that shall not even be named.)

You are allowed to believe in possibilities like love even when there are so many reasons not to.

You are allowed to live as though your time is short.

You are allowed to keep doing what you love and trust the rest to take care of itself.

Feeling pretty quiet over here today. I'm performing in next week's Moth GrandSLAM Championship and getting ready to dive into my next project, but for now all I really want to do is tidy up and put things in order. Maybe wash some clothes by hand.

The email invitations for the Finding Your Voice discussion board started going out last night, so let me know if you're experiencing any technical difficulties. I'm thinking of doing a series of short video podcasts here on the blog followed by some Q and A sessions in the FYV discussion group, in case anyone would like to move through some of the material together. Let me know what you think.