Permission to write poetry at 12:02 on a Wednesday afternoon

...to let your profit and loss sheet wait awhile longer. Art first, wild one.

Permission to only answer emails one day a week. To feel the edgy exhaling joy of releasing your obsession with professional productivity.

Permission to lose it. I mean like, let out a bursting baby wail. To your neighbor Jane. Who you don’t know that well. Who’s never wailed to you. Permission to be the can’t-hold-it-together-chick on the block who gives everyone else permission to be the same.

Permission to change directions fast, or brutally snail slow. Permission to know when you know. Or not know when you’ll ever be ready. Permission to be ready and terribly not. At the same glorious time.

Permission to have opinions that you don’t share publicly with the whole damn world. Because the whole damn world doesn’t need to understand your every intimate perspective. Because you can protect even your intellect.

Permission to be misunderstood. To make a little statue that others can project onto. To deflect and reject what isn’t yours to hold or carry.

Permission to long for your ancient animal self to take center stage, screw this evolutionary logic thing, you wanna hear the sister oaks talk, know the yarrow variants by sight and smell, sense in your spine when the horned owl is about to swoop down and snatch your breath away with their wide-winged-fly-sway eloquence.

Permission to write whatever you want. Toss the marketing copy, the positionally, the commodification of your sacred creativity. Just spill Santa Fe teal and altitude high rhymes... cuz it’s fun. Remember?

Permission to be unliked. By your old friend Kathy who used to pedestal you. By your brother-in-law Bruce who’s scared of your “seance witchy cult shit”. By strangers on the Internet who stalk your every move. Cool. Cool. Permission to mind your own business about how other people feel about you… go on: light your frankincense, channel the dead.

Permission to let your relationship style fall outside of boxes and lines. To never get married. To be gloriously slutty. To be happily married without sex at the center. To have two loves of your life simultaneously. To seduce your solitude and 7 million year old rocks, like the best beloveds you ever had.

Permission to go small. Whisper your blessings on the wind. Win no one over. Be the tree in the forest that falls, unheard.

Permission to have it all. Time. Money. The most devoted honey. A humanitarian heart who gives, without giving it all away. To revel in your blessings, to really soak in what’s good.

Permission to weep for the canyon live oak going extinct, and the honey bees, too… and still plant magnolia trees, still make babies, still say yes to life – death and destruction be damned.

Permission to be lost and found and the frustrated loose sock without a pair (why in God’s name did the washing machine eat my soul mate?!?) and the 73 year old widow in the park doing chi gong with her visor on, showing up to the practice even here, even now.

Permission to be exactly who and what and however you are in this collapsing, rebirthing, destructive, luminous world at 12:34 on a Wednesday, when you could be doing something more important than feeling, more useful than breathing, more proactive than poetry… more pressurized.

Permission to poke a tiny hole in any about-to-burst balloon parts of you, to let the helium out slowly… to deflate.

Ahhhhh, there we go.

How bout a nap now? Or a little walk in the garden?

I love you however you are, whatever you’re doing, or… not doing.

xox,
Rachael

PS – Mark your calendars. Friday May 13th. Witches Day. I’m teaching a 1-off class called The Neurobiology of Marketing: for World Changing Witches Who Want to Use Words as Spells for Good. It’s a WRITING CLASS. PRAISE APHRODITE. Official invite coming soon. When the inspiration strikes! :)

PPS – What permission slip do you need to write yourself? Perhaps set a 20 minute timer and let the poetry rip.

Last PS – Permission slips are fun. Know someone who might feel freed by this one? Sharing is caring. Press forward. <3