creativity workshop I've been taking with Elizabeth Gilbert. Seriously, I just love her. So completely down to earth and reasonable. I'm supposed to hashtag this slip, which I am only just coming to understand although my very narrow focus suggests that hashtags (an ugly word, I think?*) apply pretty much to only instagram and tongue in cheek t-shirts and the like.
I am Kristen, and I give myself permission to be more than one thing. I get to be a wife and mother, and I get to do those things well but I also get to have minor and more epic fails. I have permission to have both fleeting and sustained interest in projects. To ask for help when I need it and then accept it when I get it.
I now have permission to relinquish the storybook dream that gives me several uninterrupted hours in the day at the peak of my sense of well being and the height of my happiness for writing. I have permission to take the writing time from wherever it fits best within my other responsibilities. I have permission to enjoy that time and treasure it, instead of begrudging what I don't have.
I have permission to dabble, to flirt, to flit from one medium to the next and if I feel like painting I can paint and if I feel like glueing I can glue. I have permission to immerse myself in linguistics even though it appears to serve no purpose other than to bring me joy.
I have permission to continue on a lifelong journey of curiosity and learning and generally surveying whatever I can. I have permission to no longer be embarrassed by this passion to learn.
I have permission to have cloudy days and downright dark days and permission to stay home and not have a shower. Not for too many days, but days nonetheless and I have permission to remember that we can only recognize happiness when there is occasionally or sometimes an absence of it.
I have permission to surround myself with those who inspire me and remove those who do not, and if not removable due to circumstance, to watch them and learn from them. I have permission to indulge the introvert that occasionally lurks within.
On the flipside, I have permission to sometimes force myself to do something. When the clouds don't clear on their own I have permission to go out and do something kind, go out and help someone, go out and go to the mall, for chrissake, just go out go out go out.
I have permission to learn new tricks, savour my life, and weep with both sadness and gratitude. I have permission to not know the answer (very unGerman but yet) and I have permission to pause and think.
But most of all, and tellingly, and for this purpose, I have permission to tackle the project that is seething and teeming and frothing. The project that I dream of, that I research, that I wonder about. I have permission to begin and I have permission to work and I have permission to complete.
* perhaps that whoever named the # a hashtag never expected it to become a popular word? If they could have predicted the constant verbalization of the symbol name they would have named it something beautiful. Like sance or elah, something more dainty or lovely, instead of a lump of a word that lies heavy in the mouth and on the page. As usual, I digress.