hasn’t even left the ground yet, and I have already thought of a half-dozen reasons why I would never be able to implement any of the information learned. God, I really want to know why this keeps happening. Why can’t I break free from the internal heckler that keeps me focused on the limitations and impossibilities of life?
The announcement blasted over the plane’s audio system that the doors were about to close. So I handed my empty wine glass to the flight attendant, adjusted myself, and buckled my seatbelt. For a moment, my internal chatter settled down as I watched the flight attendant demonstrate the in-flight safety procedures.
As the plane ascended, I began feeling a sense of comfort in the puffy, white billows of clouds outside my window. The view was tranquil and relaxing. But instead of indulging in it, I became frustrated about the idea of returning home a failure. After all, nothing had really changed.
All the encouragement I had received during the retreat to embrace my passion meant very little in the scheme of things. No matter what I did, things would still be the same. Living my passion, accomplishing big things, having a purpose, experiencing success, hell, that’s for special people, I thought. And I ain’t one of them!
Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by feelings of intense sorrow. Tears began to run down my face and I cried uncontrollably. Once again that dark “something” that is always hovering over my life took possession of my thoughts. Every time that happened, my efforts fell flat and I would, again, submit to a life of mediocrity. But why the sorrow and tears? Simple. I was mourning another failed attempt to break free from the internal chains that kept me in my limited existence.
Every link of the chain had been forged over the years by the sadistic reminders of what I couldn’t do because of my race, status, or gender. Now the painful thoughts that fortified this chain were reverberating in my mind. Every negative word that had been said to me over the years began to flood my mind. Things like:
“You’re a peon, and you’ll always be a peon.”
“You need to learn how to stay in your place.”
“You have a Champagne mind, with a soda pop purse.”
“You’re just like your damn daddy. He ain’t shit, and you ain’t gonna be shit either!”
“Women are supposed to be seen, not heard.”
“No matter how much education or money you have, a Black person will always be less than everybody else.”
“You gotta a baby. Ain’t no man gonna want you.”
“Get your head out of the clouds and face reality. Ain’t nothing special about you?”
“If God wanted you to have better, you would have it by now.”
“If your prayers are not being answered, then you’re not praying hard enough, fasting long enough, or paying enough tithes.”
“A Black person can’t, and a woman never will.”
The rattling of each link in this chain grew louder and louder, and I couldn’t make it stop! I felt an excruciating pain in my heart, but I couldn’t scream. It ached to the point of nausea. My sadness became more intense and the tears flowed incessantly. I wished that I could forcefully vomit out all the negative and malicious words locked inside my head, and the memories attached to them. Then I could be free from the darkness inside me that was always waiting to kill my hopes and sabotage my efforts. I kept thinking, If only I could throw up!
Having no control over my emotions, I continued to stare out the window of the plane, thankful that no one was sitting next to me. I figured that if the other passengers noticed me crying they would think it was because I had left a loved one behind.
My mind began to shift back to my conversation with God and why this one-step-forward, three-steps-backwards dance keeps happening. I also wondered again what God meant by me being responsible for my dilemma. I demanded that He tell me WHY? Why did success in life and love always seem to elude me? Why did I have to fight for everything I had, and still come up short? Why did I identify more with a victim mentality, and less with the mind of a champion? WHY?
Just as quickly as the crying started, a silent calm came over me. The disparaging thoughts had instantly vanished. A rare, indescribable peace swept over me. What just happened? I wondered. Maybe I had just experienced a momentary, psychological meltdown. Hell, maybe I was bi-polar and didn’t know it. I’m sure if a psychiatrist had observed my actions and heard my thoughts, he or she would have been writing me a prescription and scheduling my next appointment.
The Word is Given
While drying my eyes, I looked again at the billowy clouds. Then a word came over me so swiftly and powerfully that it literally shocked me. It was compelling and clear-cut. Yes, I had demanded an answer from God, but in all honesty, I didn’t expect to get an answer — well not right then. I was used to having to wait sometimes weeks or months for any kind of clarity of thought or wisdom. Sometimes, I didn’t get an answer at all. But it appeared this time I got the answer I needed just when I needed it.
I referenced an African proverb in the introduction, but it’s worth mentioning again: “When you understand the whys of life, you can endure any how.” The word God gave me helped me to better understand why I had unintentionally been sabotaging myself and living in mediocrity. It also gave me wisdom to finally move out of my own way and into a more powerful state of being. The word I heard was “PERMISSION.”
It came over me with such conviction that I said aloud, “WHAT?” Then I heard Him say the most astonishing thing: “It’s because you won’t give yourself permission to see a better reality for yourself. To be, do, think, or expect anything different. You would rather live imprisoned by your weaknesses, fears and inhibitions than give yourself permission to live freely in your possibilities and divine potential.”
Taken aback by the whole experience, I responded, “Oh, my God — that’s it!” (In fact I said it three times). It made sense. I had never, ever given myself permission to be or do anything other than live under the influence of the negative conditioning or experiences that had dictated my way of life. I had rarely challenged the status-quo, and when I did, I was riddled with guilt and a host of fears.
I immediately began to feel a release in my mind, heart, and spirit. Joy overtook me and my tears turned into laughter. It was truly an “awakening.” I would finally be able to live free of the internal torment that had undermined me practically all my life.
Totally oblivious to the things going on around me, I looked up to find the flight attendant standing in front of me with another glass of wine. It was as if I had actually asked her for it, but I hadn’t. As though she was aware of what had occurred, she handed me the glass of wine and with a gentle, affirming smile she looked me in the eye and said, “Reality is never as bad as it seems — is it?” Before I could answer, she walked away. Talk about God making a point! I’m convinced He used the flight attendant that day to reinforce that the Universe would work in harmony with me once I gave myself permission to be and do things differently.
For most of my life I had felt all alone, but something had just happened. A switch had just been flipped to the “on” position and I realized God has always been there. He heard me! He actually heard me, and He did care after all!
For the rest of the flight, my heart and mind raced with excitement. I had a ton of questions about this whole permission thing. I wanted to know what it meant to “give myself permission.” Was this some kind of newfound freedom? Would it be a whimsical free-for-all, an excursion of self-absorbed indulgence, or something completely beyond what I could comprehend? And if so, how would I learn it? Would there be principles to follow, steps to take, and how drastically would my life really change as a result of giving myself permission?
By the time the plane landed, I was ready to move full-speed ahead with the notion of giving myself permission. That day I was determined to share this new epiphany with everyone I met! And so my journey into exploring the self-permission concept began.
Not really knowing how to give