permission to quit the “low-rent” experiences

I came across this Danielle LaPorte post a few weeks back on giving yourself permission. She writes a very whimsical list of things we can all feel free to do. Or, rather, not do. She’s waved the wand. We’re allowed! They’re rather cute (I’ve posted my favourites below).


It’s a little bit like the idea of being “thoroughly me” which I wrote about a while back. When you work out what makes you YOU, it’s so liberating. You can make firmer decisions. You don’t apologise for yourself. You steer your little boat towards things that count.

A way to do this (to work out what makes you YOU)  is to actually go through your life and identify the things that shit you, or give you that hunched, gritty, grey, niggly feeling when you just IMAGINE doing them. Then you tell yourself, actually, there’s no need to do that anymore. I mean, really. No. Need. In most cases.

I’m doing that right now. After getting back from my holiday I realised a lot of my life is spent doing “low-rent” stuff. That is, things that are low-quality for me. I accept jobs that are not part of my ethos. I help people who are takers. I take part in after-work activities that are obligations, but don’t make my heart sing. I say yes to meeting up with people who don’t make me feel warm and heartened. And days can go by and I wonder why I don’t feel magnificent.

What stops me from dropping the low-rent stuff is

a) not having perspective – when I’m bogged down in the quagmire I don’t access my feelings to see if an obligation or whatever is making me feel grey and niggly.

b) I’m scared that I’m not allowed to. But, really, it is just about giving yourself permission. No one else will. Who really cares? Only you. So just choose. And see what happens.

Right now, I’m freeing myself of a few low-rent experiences that have been bogging me down.

* Returning calls and emails from people who only want something from me is one.  If they need me, they can track me down. This is hard…I’m a compulsive follow-upperer…but, seriously, the onus is on the other person.

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