Permission To Live

I’m waiting.

Waiting for permission to live my life.

Waiting for approval of my business partner, waiting for appreciation from my colleges. Waiting for my “purpose” from God.

I’ve always seen it as a strength to be able to adapt. I’ve lived in the city, I’ve lived in a mud hut. I’ve lived in the UK, and Zambia and SA. I’ve always gone with the flow. Tried to find the path of least resistance. To be likeable and nice.

I’ve always been willing to be whatever people want me to be. But I’ve never made a decision to BE anything. Perhaps its a survival trait; to roll with the punches, to float with the riptide and not struggle against it.

In school I chose subjects that came easy to me; Art and Maths and Science. After school I went to university - because that what you do after school. I applied to study Graphic Design (because I liked art), then found I was supposed to hand in a portfolio months before, so I changed on the spot to Multimedia (because I liked computers, and it was next to the Design department’s table).

After Varsity you get a job, because that’s what people do. I hadn’t thought of where I should work, I just waited till something happened. Chris, my classmate and friend suggested we start our own business. He already had some clients and jobs lined up. So I did that.

I had ideas on how the business should run, but they were always more idealistic than realistic, and I never expressed them with conviction, so the business decisions were mostly differed to Chris. After 10 years of moderate success (the most insidious of poisons) I realised I didn’t know where I was, or how I got there, or where I was going…

But I’m here now…

It’s time to take ownership of my own life, make my own mistakes and not blame other people for getting me to where I am.

I’m giving myself permission to live my life. I’m stepping out in faith - knowing God will move the road under my feet, and not waiting for neon signs to tell me where to go.

This is my life, and no-one is going to live it for me.