Permission granted ...

permissionnoun [ U ]US 

 /pərˈmɪʃ·ən/

 the act of allowing someone to do something, or of allowing something to happen:

When I lost my love, I gave myself permission to do whatever I needed for a year to survive that loss, or not survive, if that's what was to be.

If that meant trudging through each day simply putting one foot in front of the other, so be it. I expected nothing of myself, but gave myself a deadline. If I survived the year, I would then give myself permission to start living actively again.

There were times during that year when survival was neither guaranteed nor particularly desirable. Times when my world was reduced to the space of my bed and my plans for the future reduced to how to erase any future. Times I tried to drown my sorrow in a bottle and consciously erase myself in a combination of pills and alcohol.

My body refused to cooperate, but I allowed myself to wallow in despair if I needed, without chastising myself for it.

Last month, the day after the first anniversary of my love's passing, was my deadline. The day I gave myself permission to live again.

I stopped drinking completely, which was surprisingly easy once I remembered I wasn't drinking. The universe being the perverse place it is, the first day of not drinking saw me win (and give away) three free drinks at my local. That week was one in which I was offered free alcohol multiple times, whether by friends celebrating good fortune or customers thanking me for looking after them, and I laughed as I remembered I no longer drink.

I've also returned to regular yoga practice - too regular to begin, my body quickly told me. Note to self: after a year of no yoga, eight classes in seven days might be a little excessive. Particularly if you want to move without pain. Just getting out of bed hurt.

After a weekend off to recover, I took a gentler approach this week and started with a restorative yin class and a meditation session. Being gentle on myself is my mantra right now.

Most importantly, I'm looking for fulfilling work again. It's not that I don't enjoy my current job - I do. I take pleasure in helping people have fun, and that's pretty much the job description I have right now. But I want to take that further and find pleasure in doing good as well as helping people feel good.

If I'm fortunate, I will find a position that allows me to do that while using my writing, editing and storytelling skills, and there are two amazing possibilities that nudged my attention at the perfect time. I hope very much that one of them is the right fit for me, and those making the decisions recognise that I'm the right fit for them, but I'm confident that the right fit will make itself known.

I'm eager for a challenge again, and excited about what that might turn out to be.

Most importantly, I'm open to opportunity once again.