The gift of permission

8:00:00 AM

Writing inspiration hit on my 30th birthday, which I spent with my friends Daiva and Mathieu in Siquijor Island, so I penned a lengthy Facebook post to share my happiness with people in my social media circle. I re-read the post and I figured it’s worth sharing it here on my blog (I added a few more lines), so here goes:

(Dated December 26, 2016)
Church of Lazi, Siquijor
Yesterday, I drove to the Church of Lazi from the hostel to pray. I do have my reservations about organized religion in general, but I was raised by a Catholic family and educated in Catholic schools, so there's still that part of me that finds comfort in praying inside a church.

When I got there, I found myself unable to ask for anything. Instead, thoughts of gratitude kept running through my head.

For the gift of family - the one I was born into and those I chose/choose (friends, I mean). For the gift of writing, which sustains me creatively and financially. For the gift of martial arts. For the gift of music. For the gift of travel. For the gift of reading and literature. For the gift of food. And for the material things I get to enjoy, as well.

The last gift in my "Thank you, Universe" list is the gift of permission.

To try.
To lose.
To be stupid.
To make mistakes.
To f*ck things up sometimes.
To fix what I f*cked up, if at all necessary.
To be silly.
To leave. 
To sing.
To fight.
To cry.
To laugh like a maniac.
To crack the worst jokes in the world, and at the wrong times, too.
To pack a bag and go when I need to get away.
To leave people behind.
To change my mind.
To let go.
To be selfish.
To be discontented.
To be embarrassed.
To love.
To live.
To be sad or angry when I need to be.
To be happy.

Oftentimes, what keeps us from everything we want in life is we don't give ourselves permission. Start your year with the decision to set yourself free.


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Hello, reader! Thank you for wasting your time reading my blog. I do hope you enjoyed whatever you stumbled upon. :)