Last Monday I invited you all to:
Give yourself permission, every day, at least once. Eat something decadent, take yourself somewhere gorgeous, use crayons, take a stand, roll down your windows and sing (I’m thinking Bohemian Rhapsody here), dance with a stranger, hula hoop, daydream, doodle, pour a glass of champagne, wander… One thing. Every day.
Here’s what happened when I did that…
Monday I gave myself permission to wander. In between scratching things off my to-do list, I wandered through a chapter of American Gods and a history of the peace sign. I wandered over BART tracks, through an amazing Rumpus reading event, up and down San Francisco streets and into a pizzeria that served up slices of heaven.
Tuesday I gave myself permission to love my world. I took pictures for you…
Wednesday was a hard day for me. I’d given myself permission to dream big, which, at first, was awesome. I went to work on a couple of projects I’d stalled on and found that being outrageously optimistic and focused on the best possible outcomes was what I needed to break the log jam. Late in the day, I had a great idea and I shared it, all puppylike and certain, with someone who could help me implement it. She shied away. It wasn’t the right time for her; she’s not in a place to leap right now. I understood, but I felt abandoned and frustrated and derailed as I got ready to go meet a friend for dinner.
It took me an hour to drive to the funky little cafe where we met, and I spent that hour being angry, and then sad, and then philosophical. By the time I arrived, I was, more or less, back in dream-big mode, so when my friend told me about her kickass collaboration idea, I did not shy away.
Still…
Thursday I gave myself permission to be sad. Sometimes setbacks take a little longer than an hour to get over. Sometimes you have to just be sad for a while.
Friday I gave myself permission to snap out of it. In little ways I shook the day up. I did my workout outside, took the dogs on a new path, made something I’ve never tried before for dinner. I plowed through a terrible first draft of a really good short story, and I read this to get inspired.
Saturday I gave myself permission to feed my soul. I met a friend who I’ve only known online. We spent the day walking the Lands End trail on the SF coast. It was beautiful. (I’ll spare you the pictures… for now.) She was, as I suspected she would be, one of the most energized, articulate, passionate, action-oriented people I’ve ever met. She reminded me how valuable it is to connect with people who fill you up.
Sunday I gave myself permission to rest.
What did you give yourself permission to do?
~~~~~~~~~~
This week, I thought we could commit premeditated acts of self-love together. I’m hoping you’ll join me. I think it would be fun to swap stories next Monday. Here’s my proposal.
Monday: Indulge in at least one guilty pleasure.
Tuesday: Express yourself. (Have fun with this one.)
Wednesday: Reward yourself.
Thursday: Take 15 minutes (or more) and wander (mentally or physically)
Friday: Sip something delicious.
Saturday: PLAY.
Sunday: Love someone – fearlessly, consciously, as only you can.
What do you think?
Runaway
There is so much I love about your ideas. But I have to say as I was reading this I was thinking this person SO does not have any children, let alone children with special needs, because I do not have the freedom to do pretty much anything you have done this week. I certainly can’t rest on weekends, or take quiet walks, nor can I see friends in the evenings. I can’t even easily give myself permission to be sad, as that too affects the kids. Sorry to be so down, it’s just that my permissions come in such tiny moments, a stolen cookie, staying up 2 hours after everyone is FINALLY in bed to write (but then I pay for that with exhaustion the next day). I am, this minute, very envious of your freedoms.
Thanks for commenting. I do have children, actually, but they’re older now and don’t require the time and attention that yours do. That said, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t feel a little buried by her life, whether the pulls on her time come from children or parents or sick loved ones, the work they bring home, travel, writing deadlines, the organizations they lead or participate in.
I think the important thing is to love yourself throughout and to commit acts of self-love when you can – tiny moments are fine. Wonderful in fact. I would argue, necessary. I had a conversation with my best friend when I had two young children, one with ADD, and I was getting my degree. She said, “How do you get anything done?” I said, in 5-minute chunks.
I commend your tiny moments, and wish with all my heart that you had more time for you.
Really inspired by this. You have reminded me both how complicated and easy it is. Complicated that we have to give ourselves permission and re-programme things like dreaming big (yes, got that), and being sad and resting, without guilt or that negative voice. Easy because I have always found that it is as simple as creating a space and saying, “yes, I am allowed to feel this and I am not going to let the old voice get in the way”.
I’m joining you too, by the way ;) xx
Thank you, Melissa. And YAY! I was hoping people would join me.
I feel a need to confess (ack!) that “resting” on Sunday consisted of NOT writing this post after our company left Sunday night, when I felt tired and just wanted to go to bed. I went to bed at 11 pm, woke up at 3 am, couldn’t get the post out of my head, knew I had a meeting this morning and wouldn’t have time to get to it… so I got up and did it, went back to bed at 4:30.
I did, just for the record, love myself all during my nocturnal blogging episode. ;-)
A long winded way of saying, we don’t have to be perfect. I think just trying to stay in touch with who we are and how amazing we are (and how far we’ve come) is a start.
You, dear Judy, are a treasure. Thank you for doing what you do, and for doing what you do so beautifully.
Right back at you, Zen-girl. I only wish you wrote more so I could be (soulfully) distracted more often.
There’s a lot of this going around, lately. I find it curious that we have to remind ourselves to take time and make space for self love. When do we lose the ability to love ourselves?
Your list of seven daily activities is a sweet, easy reminder that I think most anyone will find doable.
I could not agree with you more. I designated May self-love month because of all the truly amazing people I know who are agonizingly hard on themselves. We’re half way through and I’ve learned as much about them as I have about myself. It makes me sad (and sometimes furious) how hard it is for people to be as generous with themselves as they are with everyone else.
So, yeah. Easy, baby steps. I wanted everyone to be able to say yes.
I so needed to read this post this morning, and the one you linked. Thank you, and I’ll partner up with you this week, pal :). Great pics!
Yay! I only just figured out what my guilty pleasure will be.
I’m in! You are inspiring, J.
Awww. Thank you for this big grin.
As Mac Davis said in his song many years ago “You’ve got to stop and Smell The Roses”.
I’m pretty sure the answers to all my questions are contained in the lyrics of songs I’ve yet to hear.
Beautiful. Timely. Necessary. Relevant. The adjective game is fun, too… Your words are brilliant and beneficial. Thanks for bringing us along for your ride–and encouraging us to take ahold of our own steering wheels.
I definitely like when you turn your super word-slinging powers on me. Thank you for riding with me!
Believe it or not (ok, you know me, so you believe it :-) ), I put your list in my calendar! I already have Thursday planned (love it when it happens that way), wandering through Black Diamond mines. The rest I still have to figure out, but what a fun list to figure out :-). hmmm, maybe tomorrow might be my letter… possibility…
I love it when you inspire my creative juices :-)
You’re so cute. I have to go Google Black Diamond Mines. Sounds cool.
Great project & great link. Thank you! Just saw a to-do list tattoo. I think the fridge may be where I’ll put this one even though it is AWESOME!
Love you, >>hugs<<
The fridge is better anyway. You’re more likely to see it. (I should do that too.) xoxo
Love the post. I’m sorry you had a rough mid-week!
I have to say, I’m quite permissive with myself most of the time. (If you want to sing out, sing out…) Today’s assignment, indulging in a guilty pleasure, is something I haven’t done recently. I’ll be popping Help! in the VCR later. :-p
Yeah, me too. My midweek setback had ramifications that made me sad, but I’m better now. Just read a post from Justine Musk that said “Every journey starts with a separation, a leave-taking, a realization that the place you are right now is a place where you can no longer stay.” Funny how sometimes you read just what you need to hear right when you need to hear it.
I had a little trouble coming up with my guilty pleasure… well, one that I’m willing to do. (There will no gorging on potato chips or chocolate chip cookies today!)
Sorry your Thursday was the same as mine… but you’re right, some things take longer than an hour to get over. It’s all about having the courage to allow yourself to be sad – then make sure to snap out of it and continue dreaming big.
Love your photos and the rest of your week’s permissions. (Just posted mine a couple of minutes ago)
I’m also excited about this week’s assignment and have a couple of the things figured out already ;-)
Yes, and sometimes it’s about having the courage to do the thing that is going to make you sad.
Off to read your post!
After 68 years of marriage, my grandmother, with her hackles
up (she is a rare breed) retorts to my grandfather, now 91 and
making his way out to demonstrate his garden tiller by telling
her, when she tries to stop him, “You’re not the boss of me!”
“I am the business of you.” She looked right, toward
me as she said it. He showed me his tiller. I winked at her
as we made our way outdoors. My wink said, “Defiant to the end
definitely skips a generation.” Her smile told me, “This is who
I chose to be. I’d choose it again and again.”
It’s a sweet tiller, and now I get to use it.
This is not encoded. What I love about Zebra Sounds?
Neither are you. The “j” has clarity. Brilliant, as ever, today.
I love that story of your grandparents! I’ve been thinking a lot about the ways in which we are connected. We are – in the best, most human sense – each other’s business, I think. We just have to remember it’s about love and expansion and empathy, not hierarchy.
So says j. (Still think I’m clear?) ;-)
Yes’M. Sound the “All Clear”.