The Permission Slip
Because grief does not need anyone else’s approval
Grief comes with a surprising number of expectations.
You should get out more.
You should be getting better.
You should talk about it.
You shouldn't talk about it so much.
You should keep busy.
You should rest.
You should be grateful.
You should move forward.
You should be strong.
It can become very easy to lose sight of the only person actually living your grief.
You.
The Permission Slip is a tiny ritual for the moments when you need to stop asking what you're supposed to be doing and listen to what you actually need.
WHEN THIS MIGHT HELP
Any time you catch yourself thinking:
I should…
I shouldn't…
By now I ought to…
Other people seem to…
What's wrong with me that I can't…
Or when somebody else's expectations have become louder than your own needs.
You don't need to earn permission.
This ritual is simply a way of giving it back to yourself.
A SIMPLE PERMISSION RITUAL
1 - Take a piece of paper
Nothing fancy.
A Post-it.
The back of an envelope.
A page torn from a notebook.
Then write:
Today, I give myself permission to…
And finish the sentence.
Don't write what sounds healthy, productive or emotionally evolved.
Write the truth.
2 - Be specific
Maybe today you need permission:
…to cancel the plans.
…to go to the plans and actually enjoy myself.
…to cry.
…not to cry.
…to say their name.
…not to talk about them today.
…to ignore the messages.
…to ask for company.
…to be angry.
…to laugh without feeling guilty.
…to eat cereal for dinner.
…to stop pretending I'm okay.
…to be okay for a while.
There is no correct answer.
The whole point is that you decide.
3 - Put it somewhere you'll find it
Fold it into your pocket.
Leave it beside your bed.
Put it inside your journal.
Stick it to the bathroom mirror.
Take a photograph and make it your phone screen.
Put it somewhere private if the words belong only to you.
Then let it exist there.
You don't need to meditate on it.
You don't need to turn it into homework.
Sometimes simply seeing the words again is enough.
4 - Let yourself change your mind
Permission isn't a contract.
You can write:
Today I give myself permission to stay home.
And at 4pm decide you want to go out.
You can give yourself permission to cry and discover there are no tears.
You can plan to visit the cemetery and wake up knowing you can't.
You haven't failed the ritual.
You are allowed to need something different from one hour to the next.
5 - Keep them, or don't
You might want to collect your permission slips.
Put them in a jar.
Keep them in your journal.
Fold them into a little box.
Over time, they can become an unexpected record of what you've needed.
But you can also screw one up and throw it straight in the bin.
The paper isn't sacred.
The permission is.
SOME PERMISSIONS YOU MIGHT NEED
I am allowed to miss them and still have a good day.
I am allowed to be tired of talking about grief.
I am allowed to want to talk about them all night.
I am allowed to say no without providing an explanation.
I am allowed to change traditions.
I am allowed to keep their things.
I am allowed to let some of their things go.
I am allowed to feel angry.
I am allowed to feel relief.
I am allowed to laugh.
I am allowed to need people.
I am allowed to need everyone to leave me alone.
I am allowed to have no idea what I need.
And perhaps the hardest one:
I am allowed to grieve differently from the way other people think I should.
WHEN GUILT SHOWS UP
Because it probably will.
Grief has an extraordinary ability to turn almost anything into evidence against us.
If I laugh, am I forgetting them?
If I don't cry today, does that mean I'm moving on?
If I enjoy something, should I feel guilty?
If I need space from grief, what does that say about my love?
Nothing.
Taking a break from pain is not taking a break from loving them.
You do not have to remain miserable to prove that someone mattered.
SOMETHING TO CARRY
You will receive plenty of opinions about grief.
Some spoken.
Some implied.
Some absorbed from a culture that still expects grief to behave itself.
But nobody else gets to decide what your relationship with the person who died should look like now.
Nobody else lives inside your body.
Nobody else wakes up inside your particular version of this loss.
You are allowed to trust yourself.
Even when what you need changes.
Especially then.
YOUR PERMISSION SLIP
Today, I give myself permission to ____________________________.
I don't need to justify it.
I don't need to make it productive.
I don't need anyone else to understand.
I can change my mind.
I can need something different tomorrow.
For today, this is what I need.
And I am allowed to listen to that.