Permission from a passport

For some odd reason, this week started out different than most for me. I felt 'good'. As in, really good. It's summer, stress is lower, my work is slower and I can hang out with my boy, so lots of pressure has been off.

I felt so good in fact that I deemed Monday to be the day I would do one of the most procrastinated things EVER. Go get a passport.

Ever filled one of those forms out? Good grief. It took me weeks to attempt to get it all right. And I'd be half way through, lose it then have to start over. You get the drill. I also did one for my son so I experienced double the pleasure.

But a passport is very very monumental in my world and much more than just a document with a really bad grumpy looking photo tucked inside.

It's such a big deal in fact that a friend slipped me a bill and told me the passport was on him. Why would he do such a thing and why is it such a big deal you ask?

A passport meant I was giving myself permission to succeed. 

And my friend knew that and wanted to help send me on my way.

A passport very simply meant, if an opportunity arose, I could tackle it head on rather than find the easy way out and say 'I couldn't go'. 

A passport is an open door with many interesting paths leading to the exciting unknown.  And that's scary.

And who would I be if I sat here and continued to encourage you out of your own comfort zones if I didn't reach out of mine? 

"So...", I say shyly, barely making eye contact while I kick dirt with my shoe... "I guess I just gave myself permission to run with it."

EEP!!!

I'm just glad you'll be there to hold my virtual hand because I've officially run out of excuses.

I'm putting this one under the 31 day series. This was 31 straight days of blogging about building a business from a blog. Click the button above if you're intrigued.

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