I am a huge fan of author Brené Brown and her work on vulnerability and authentic living. One of her ideas that I absolutely love is the suggestion to write yourself permission slips when you are about to go into situations that make you feel self-conscious, anxious or even excited. Before meeting Oprah, she wrote on a little note to herself:
‘You have permission to be giddy. You have permission to laugh. You have permission to ask for a picture. You have permission to be completely uncool.'”
She kept that note in her pocket and allowed herself to be vulnerable and true to herself. It is without a doubt this willingness to be totally transparent that has made the world fall in love with her incredible Ted-talks, books and art journalling programmes.
The other day I was challenged. I was listening in on a Skype-mentoring-call my husband was having with speaker and social media expert, Nick Bowditch. He suggested blogging often and only taking 10 minutes to write the first draft of the blog, spending only very small amounts of time proofing it afterwards. TEN MINUTES! I have a tendency to absolutely torture myself when I write. It is a tedious process of re-reading, re-wording, re-defining…. Re..aaaallly!!!! I mean, it is serious work for me. It means I don’t blog as often as I would like to. I also feel extremely vulnerable in the process of putting myself out there because the things that matter to me are things that expose me; my fears & passions, my curiosity & thoughts about life. It’s stuff other people might not agree with. Even worse they might read my stuff and think I’m silly or too honest, too sensitive or simply uncool. And I care because, well I AM sensitive! But all that aside I was intrigued by the idea of limiting my writing-time and embracing my vulnerability Brené-style.
SO, here’s my note:
“Minna you have permission to blog any thought you might have. You may write sentences that are not completely awesomely structured (like that one!). You have permission to put stuff out there even if there’s a hidden typo or a paragraph that makes no sense. You have permission to totally flop as a writer. You have permission to write. Just write.”
My time is up. Sometimes “good enough” is better than perfect. What are you going to give yourself permission to do today?