Through the art of networking with local emotional health advocates, I learned about
Firefly Creative Writing, a Toronto based business where writing comes to life with the support of coaches, online or in the city classes, video prompt and retreats.
As a girl I wrote and wrote, weaving words together to make sense of my world. It was the comfort of my poetry between journal covers that opened up my voice that I always had the whisper of.
Writing has been in the background of my life for the last few years, when I can shake the inner critic does my writing become a thread I can’t stop following. Firefly reawakened my curiosity to see what patchwork my thread can sew, in hopes that you and I can stay warm together with the wonders of my words.
While Chris, the founder of Firefly had us writing random about noodle soup, rubber boots and waiting, I realized 20 or so strangers across the world generated unconditional support and respect simply by sitting in our homes, at our computers, watching and responding to each others wild words as they came through. In that hour, a community shared by language came together and honoured one anothers voices in a way I’ve never experienced, and a week later I am still shaking, rattling and rolling words around in my mouth to create a dance on my paper and eventually in our world.
Permission Granted, a poem by David Allen Sullivan was shared with us as a prompt to further writing for 7 minutes.
I chose to take the title as my launch pad, as ‘permission’ has always been a word I’ve choked on.
Here are a few of the many lines my heart sings
Permission granted to fly even if your wings are under developed.
Permission granted to nourish your soul even if it means eating rotten fruit.
Permission granted to close your eyes and let the dark light you up.
Permission granted to follow your shadow even when they tell you to follow the sun.
Permission granted to be awkward, clumsy and weird so long as you’re not pretending
Permission granted to stop your clock, throw out your watch, and sit with nowhere to go.
Permission granted to soak up the moonlight because you definitely won’t burn.
Permission granted to write wordless mantras because silence is what you’ll come back to.
Permission granted to forget about others if it means remembering yourself.
Permission granted to live in confusion as long as your heart remains clear.
Permission granted to grant yourself permission to never ask for permission again.
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