Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Permission Slips

The good old days when I was a little less bitter, a signature from mom gave me the freedom to go on an adventure. I remember them like it was yesterday...well yesterday if I was in a coma for the last twenty five years.

The Museum of Science was always a good field trip. Conveniently located right off the highway, minutes away from school. Always the same stressed out elderly bus driver clearing the cobwebs out from the cheap Elks Club beers. Plus there was a planetarium. Loved the planetarium, learned the Big and Little Dippers, Orion, and that hallucinogenic drugs might be for me. Another popular one, right across the river from The Museum of Science was Old Ironsides. The ship that won some war, Revolutionary I believe, took a bunch of cannon shots. It was more about getting out of class, not about the learning. I did figure out that there was no way I was ever joining the navy, so that is a lesson learned.

I travelled to France, under the guise of learning French, really to bed sophisticated (loose) French women while drinking in bars at 17. Tres Bien! All with a permission slip (and some francs from my folks).

No one writes me permission slips anymore. I suppose my mom would send me one, but I am an adult, learning how to be an adult, so I thought I'd start writing my own permission slips.

I was holding myself back from doing things, big and small. I had given people the power to sign or not sign my permission slips. Without their okay I wouldn't go on the trip, wouldn't take a chance. And they didn't even know they had such signatory powers. I'd kept their position hidden from them.

So I wrote myself my very first permission slip and signed it, so it's official. Just hung it on my board --- I give myself permission to love boldly, to live on the edge and to relish the abundance The Universe blesses me with. What a nice parent I am becoming to myself.

Here's a few more I came up with for me -

I give YOUR NAME HERE permission to be happy as a pig rolling in shite.

I give The Bitter Spiritualist permission to make as many mistakes as he needs to make.

I give The Bitter Spiritualist permission to be true to who he is, and love who he is.

I give The Bitter Spiritualist permission to fuck off today, go see a movie, have a slice of pizza and a fountain coke and look at all the beautiful women passing me by.

As The Bitter Spiritualist uncovers new ways I fuck my life up, errrr.....I mean learn, I share them with you, my loyal masses.

Write yourself a permission slip. You know what you need. Working too hard? Write yourself a slip to take the day off and do what you love. Not working hard enough? Write yourself one to have an adventure in hard work. I think you get the idea! Give your bad ass self permission to do the things you don't allow yourself to do.

I know I am. And it's summer time! Lots of fun field trips to be had. Go for a walk. An amusement park. Why not check out a museum? Give yourself permission.

I'm off to catch a flick, have some pie and gawk at the hotties in their summer dresses! Permission Granted!


  1. you are so smaht Bitter. I love the permission slip! Nice permission you gave bodly (sounds like you just saw Star Wars or some bad episode of CSI Miami), live on the edge (it's ok to permit yourself to dive off that edge), and relish (mmmm pickles) the abundance. I love it! you are a wonderful parent to you. nice work. and thanks for giving me the permission to give myself permission to do things i want to do!
    your writing is always a treat!