I have permission to be lazy, to be late, to be untidy; not thoughtless, but not bound to please everyone all the time either.
I have permission to cross things off my to-do list without doing them, perhaps tear up the list entirely, so I can luxuriate in some creativity: painting, pottering, writing this blog whilst the lunch time washing up languishes in the sink!
I have permission not to wash my hair; to wear a hat instead. To forgo making the bed, to allow things to slide, as I toss my clothes into the washing basket day after day, until I have only one pair of jeans left to stand up in.
I have permission to lounge here in the dappled shade, my cat sprawled across my chest, and lose myself in a book. To watch the weeds creeping up through the gravel and turn a blind eye. To lose myself in the beauty of spring as flowers open their faces and dazzle us with their colours, their shape, their soft shimmer in the effervescent haze of sunlight.
I have permission to ignore the voice in my head that whips me ever onward - to achieve this, to finish that. I have permission to tear up the catalogue of enterprises with which I berate myself in an endeavour to be a productive, fully paid up member of the human race.
Who cares? Truly - who does?
Who cares if I repot the geraniums or write a poem - only me!
And I’m giving myself permission to take the day off, the week even, and rest in the unique beauty of this precious moment. In the possibility of discovering something remarkable. As I doze here, with the cat, the computer, and these words keeping us company. Happy in the knowledge that you too can give yourself permission to discover what is deeply hidden within the layers of existence.
I give myself permission not to be swept away by the noise of world, but instead to gather in what is found in silence, in stillness. These discoveries arising and guiding us to the endless possibilities offered by this one, true and precious life.
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