Shifting Slowly

What are you waiting on permission for?

I grew up asking for permission on almost everything. Didn’t we all? Can I stay up late? Can I sleep over so and so’s house? Can I hang with my friends after school?

As I got older, it changed. I chose for myself. I didn’t always make the best choices, but that’s how we learn.

The one thing I’m always asking permission for though is, to write. Not what to write, how to write, but to actually do the act of writing. Who am I asking permission from? Myself.

I am the only one ever in the way of my writing. I’m always creating long lists of things to do that never include writing because in my mind the writing will inevitably come after, like going to sleep for the night, I just think it’s innate. But it isn’t because I never actually do it that often. In fact, I sleep more than I do my writing.

Writing is an act, it’s also a gift. It isn’t something inevitable like the sun rising every morning. There’s no thought behind that. No guy getting a phone call saying: “Alright, get that thing up.” We’re not on some movie set. Although, I seem to be waiting for someone to say, “Ok, get to writing. Action!” And I wait and wait but no one’s coming. My job is to take the gift I’ve been given and use it and share it.

How often does someone’s birthday come around and you are out shopping for a gift, and you think, ‘I’d like to get them something they’ll use.’ That’s how I should be thinking of my gift.

The excuses are often, what will I write about? What if it doesn’t sound right? Who’s even going to read it? What do I want to even do with it once it’s written?

The answers though are found in the doing, not the waiting. If we sat and waited for our lives to unfold, we’d become one with the seat, our bodies forming right into it. Our minds never developing and therefore, never growing.

Writing is a living thing. Something physical and you just have to pick up the pen or in my case, open up the laptop and tap away the words that are lodged up in this head of mine.

Every day I will tap away. I will tap away at whatever is up here and put it down here and if it comes to something, great, if not, great just the same because I’ve at least showed up.

Showing up is living. Show up for life, no matter what’s thrown at you. We can’t live a pain free life. Life without pain is death. You must feel pain, you must feel all the feelings, good and bad, in order to live and understand what you’ll allow and won’t allow. In order to make better what hurts and welcome what feels great, you must show up.

Most of the pains I tried to avoid in my life only brought me more pain. Because the little pains I numbed became big pains I couldn’t avoid. I had to go through them to desperately get to the other side. The more we don’t show up to life the sadder & scarier it becomes.

The initial plan for our lives was to live pain free, to be without worry, to have the knowledge and wisdom to live a life of love and understanding and community and joy. All we were asked to do was show up. We still needed to choose to show up, permission was already granted. And even now, thousands of years later we are being asked to show up. To use our gifts. To share our gifts. To put them to good use in a way that brings love, joy, peace, and understanding. Use your gifts for good.

We are being asked to show up as yourself, show up to it all, but just show up.