Permission

You have permission to inhabit your own life.

To say no

To say yes.

To inhabit your own knowing

Your own body,

And all you allow or do not allow

within it.

~

To love who you love.

To feel.

To inhabit anger,

contentment,

joy . And heavy sorrow.

To be full of strength,

and to know weakness.

~

Permission to stand for something. Or to walk away.

To find rest. To tell your story.

To give or take what is yours,

And to never explain why you leave --

Or why you stay.

~

You have permission, grand permission,

to have a voice. And to use it.

And to let others have theirs too.

To add your voice to the Grand Mosaic,

Your brilliant tile to humanity,

and not be silenced.

~

You have permission to tell the truth

and to let others tell theirs. Or to be in quiet.

To choose to engage in the old wars,

To win the game. To lose it,

or to stand firm.

--Or to find something higher.

~

To know. -- When to listen,

Or when to be cracked open.

To let the silver spores of being infuse your life

Or to watch your tender soul unfurl,

and come to flower

~

You have permission to be Wild. So wild

To live in, under, to live through.

To experience belief. And what it is to follow.

To Lead,

Or to gather all you own, your whole being, if need be,

And take up your sacred path.

~

You have permission to live in your full truth today,

Even if it that truth is gone, tomorrow.

To be reborn.

Stunned like a babe, gasping from the womb,

only to find rest in the warmth and soft breast

of new Knowing.

~

You have permission to follow the call of your soul --

Even if it doesn't make sense.

Even if it is inconvenient.

Even if it only forms more questions --

Even if it only brings you freedom,

Or a heavy burden.

~

For you are not a herd beast.

You are a Being of Light,

Individuating your way out of the sleeping tribe.

You are an archangel , exalted to human,

Spreading the great arms of your wings

into Life.

~

You are a Boat Builder,

A Clock Maker,

A Worker at the Compass.

Full of beauty. Complexity,

and magnificent contradiction.

~

You, my dear, are a Singer of the Soul.

~

Never,

ever,

ask for permission.

~

~ Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer) Midwives of the Soul.

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