The Permission We’re Waiting For

Hi Friend,

So many of us are still waiting.

Waiting for the right moment.
Waiting for things to slow down.
Waiting to feel like we’ve earned the space to enjoy, to create, to breathe a little deeper.

This week’s reflection is a reminder that permission doesn’t usually arrive from the outside. It’s something we practice quietly, often imperfectly, in small moments that don’t need explaining.

If this newsletter meets you in a season of hesitation, let it be gentle. There’s no rush here. Just an invitation to notice where you might still be waiting—and what it could feel like to begin anyway.

Thanks for being here and for making space to read slowly.

— Tim

Most of us are waiting for permission without realizing it. And that’s craziness! As adults, we are still waiting for someone else to make it okay.

Permission to slow down.
Permission to enjoy ourselves.
Permission to do something that doesn’t look productive or serious.

We learned early that worth comes from output. That rest should be earned. That joy is something you squeeze in after everything else is handled. That we shouldn’t have joy if someone else isn’t finding that same joy in their own way.

So even when the desire to live, to do, to adventure, to read, to puzzle, to sit, to cook, to listen, to make, to create shows up, we hesitate. We wait until it feels justified. Responsible. Approved.

The problem is—no one is coming to give us that permission. And I don’t know about you, but it will rarely, if ever, feel justified, responsible, or approved.

As adults, permission isn’t something we receive.
It’s something we practice.

And practicing it can feel uncomfortable at first. Even wrong (possibly very wrong). Because choosing joy without an explanation goes against everything we were taught.

But here’s the quiet truth:
You don’t need to deserve the things that make you feel alive.

Ten minutes of doing that “thing” without an outcome is not indulgent.
It’s grounding.

You’re not stealing time from your life, you’re returning to it. And here in 2026, what I believe, is that we should all try to, no no… We all need to return to our life. Our joy, our fun. Because everywhere else around us, well. Let’s just say that what’s streaming into our scrolling and our lives from the outside world may not have that much joy involved.

No one is coming
to tell you it’s okay.

But the wanting remains,
steady and patient,
asking only
that you begin.

We have heard it over and over again, “Am I too old to start something new?”
And the answer is always the same….. NO!

You’re NEVER too old to learn, to create, to try, to begin again. You’re not behind. You’re not late. You’re right on time for your time. For you time!

Starting something new isn’t about guaranteed outcomes or perfect endings. Sometimes it doesn’t turn out the way you imagined — and that’s okay. Because starting teaches you. It stretches you. It reminds you that you’re still capable of growth.

You deserve the curiosity. You deserve the excitement. You deserve the chance to see what happens when you say yes to yourself.

Even if the path changes…
even if the result surprises you…
starting and learning will always be better than never starting at all.

And yes, you can do this.

Because believe it or not, you can teach an old dog new tricks.

We tend to treat creativity like a personality trait.

You either have it… or you don’t.

Here's the thing though, creating isn’t a talent. It’s a human function.

Long before it became a career path or a social media category, creating was how people made sense of the world. We carved, painted, stitched, sang, built, and told stories, not to impress, but to process. Creating helped us slow time down long enough to understand what we were feeling, fearing……

The images used above, of the surfers. Those were taken along the PCH, I had never drive that highway before and it was one of the most fun drives I’ve ever gone on. All the stops, all the places, all the views. And in one location, so many people waiting. With their surfboards, looking out, watching. I remember those moments so vividly. I can still hear the waves crashing and I can still feel the cool pacific ocean air…

~ Till next time………