Permission is one of those things it seems we are always seeking. It begins with wanting to do this or that as a child. Then as a teenager to go here or there. To use the car. To dress as we want at the time.
That ingrained seeking of permission seems to always nag us throughout life. Some of us are better at over looking the need to have permission, others of us are hesitate until it seems ok to move forward with a want.
The other day in a conversation with an artist friend of mine, a very talented artist she is, we were chatting about taking time to paint or write. I was moaning about what direction to take with a book I have worked on for some time. Feel guilty about writing not so much because of the subject matter however that I have been told I should not write. Yet I should not feel guilty at all. She finally said, just write. Just write and see where it goes.
I wasn’t seeking her permission or anyone’s for that matter. I have been hesitate because of the guilt laid on me by my Mother and silly me, I am still allowing that to bother me. Like the kid who needs permission to go to the dance. Or stay a night at a friends house. It is so silly yet so crippling at the same time.
I have read so many books about writing, some good, some great. Other books line my shelves and rest in boxes of how to move past things just like the silly crippling guilt I still feel imposed by my Mother. The book that did the most for me is Julia Cameron and Mark Bryan’s book The Artist Way. My copy of this is so dog eared, marked in and enjoyed that it is wonder it is still intact, yet years later when I feel the block, the wall in front of me, I drag it out and whatever page it opens to is what I seem to need that day. It is an amazing book for any artist, writer or creative soul seeking to find their path. Julia identified that we many times are blocked by the people we associate with. The people who create the dynamics so we stay blocked because that is how they are comfortable with us. She calls them crazymakers and they are.
And while it is difficult to think of one’s Mother as a crazymaker she really was in many ways. The footing was never really solid with her. One never quite knew where they stood and just when you think you did, wow there went the very rug where you stood. She meant well and was indeed a good woman in many ways, although she wanted things to fit in a box and if one could not fit in a box well then it was tough to get that permission to do otherwise.
So when my friend…the ever so talented artist said to me just write…just do it…it was as if the Universe had said so there you have it, the permission you need to go forward. And somehow maybe my Mother may at long last realizes from her place in the clouds it is time to leave the rug in place. And so it is time to just write, paint, dance. To see where the path leads.