Letter of Permission

Since I'm the only thing that gets in the way of my happiness, I've written a letter of permission to myself to be as alive as possible.  Are you waiting for someone to give you permission--perhaps a parent, partner, employer or child? What do you give yourself permission to be?

Dear JoAnn,

I give you permission to be strong, powerful, charismatic and funny.

I give you permission to laugh and cry, make mistakes and to heal.

I give you permission to ask questions, sit in silence, talk for an hour, write what’s on your mind without censure.

I give you permission to love your body and brain, ask for what you want, and trust deeply in the goodness of the universe.

I give you permission to be a true original, to be just like everyone else, to be ordinary, dowdy and dull some days and on others to be the shiniest one in the room. 

I give you permission to love deeply, to look like a fool for your truth, to be uncomfortable.

I give you permission to be curious, scared, and wonder-filled. 

You have my permission to rest, to make friends with emptiness, and to be easily delighted.

You have permission to be.

Love, JoAnn