So, there's this word, "permission" (/pərˈmɪʃən/), and lately, it feels like the universe is shouting it at me from every mountain peak. "You have permission," it yells. But wait, did I really need permission, and from who? Turns out, the one doling out this golden ticket was none other than yours truly.
In the last six months, I've been on this wild ride, realizing that I'm the chief permit giver in my life. This weekend, I'm diving headfirst into a day-long conference in Knoxville called "Permission Slip." Yeah, the name got me too. It called out to me as I watched a friend own her dreams by just giving herself the green light to be who she damn well pleased.
See, we often think our dreams are reserved for someone else. But newsflash: we hold the keys to our own potential. Permission isn't handed out like candy; you gotta look in the mirror and say, "I’m ready for change." That's when the universe – or maybe just our own inner voice – starts yelling, "You have permission."
Then came this local networking gig where a self-proclaimed emotions guru spilled the beans on mastering the art of feelings for high achievers. Now, normally, I'd be rolling my eyes, thinking, "What kind of cult is this?" But guess what? I gave myself permission to chat with the guy after the meeting. Three sessions later, I'm hooked. I see changes, notice stuff. Permission granted to keep feeling hopeful about unlocking my best self.
Right before that, I was knee-deep in sponsored travel classes because I wanted to know the nitty-gritty, not just the end result. Gave myself the go-ahead to join a VIP beta class, became a test pilot for a new program, and suddenly, my world opened up. Writing more, tapping into ideas, and leveling up my sales game – all thanks to a little self-permission.
Money, time, bad decisions – yeah, they might have held me back. But you know who the common denominator was? Me. I needed to look myself in the eye and say, "Permission granted to break free, never look back, and hustle for that change." It's sweat-inducing work, but it’s also the most damn important work of my life.
In this crazy symphony of self-discovery, permission is my jam. It’s not a one-and-done thing; it's a constant reminder that I’m in control. So here I am, carrying the echoes of permission not just from mountaintops but from the depths of my own badass self. It's time to rock this journey.