• ccm

On turning 30...

Turning 30 to me, is no longer about endless impossible lists, high sky expectations about myself or mapping carefully a set of instructions to succeed in life; nor about picturing how my future is supposed to look like.

Permission to enter into my thirties like a REAL person. Honest, humbled, growing and in an endless search for true meaning. Finally allowing myself to be me and embracing who I’ve been making room for all of my life.

Go with the flow brother. Life is not a drill.

1. Permission to not give a fuck. About your hair, your abs, your sarcasm, your friend’s opinion, your community’s idea of success, your idea of perfection or of who you were supposed to be. Don’t take life so freaking seriously. Nothing is that important.

2. Permission to accept all the things you couldn’t accomplish in your 20s or even earlier. To hell with endless lists of unrealistic expectations. You did waaaay more than fine and will surely continue to do so.

3. Permission to enjoy the highs and the lows. No more pretending life’s easy or perfect. Shitty days teach us too. Allow space between sadness and happiness to be a middle ground for creativity and love.

4. Permission to make mistakes. To not be so hard on yourself and others for being human. Patience young Padawan, fuck ups teach us way more than victories.

5. Permission to be bluntly honest. With others about the things you don’t like or agree with, and bluntly honest with yourself: to know deep down what you truly need and walk in that direction with determination and love.

6. Permission to take a break. From someone. From something. From yourself and your negative thoughts. Even our own kids whom we love with our whole heart can be too much sometimes. Even our spouse or mother can smother us once in a while. Even getting sick and tired of our own thoughts and emotions is ok. Turn the TV on, watch some mindless Netflix for a few hours and chill the F out.

7. Permission to accept yourself every day even if it feels like a never-ending fight between self hate and self love. And by choosing to do so, accepting yourself means no longer waiting for the approval of others to build your own self-respect. You’re perfection, you just haven’t seen it yet.

8. Permission to find comfort. To not being so uptight either about jeans or ideologies. Wear what makes you comfortable and cozy and happy. Choose your spiritual and philosophical path (or don’t) and stop getting annoyed when someone doesn’t get you. Embrace -shamelessly- who you really are inside-out, and the rest will follow.

9. Permission to notice when and why you’re shutting yourself away from the world and to make an effort to understand what’s triggering you. We are social animals we need others true, but try to understand what makes you connect and disconnect from the world around you so you can find your real tribe. Know thyself, basically.

10. Permission to be yourself, whatever that means, whoever you wake-up-in-the-morning feeling like being. No matter how much backlash you get, no matter how judged, analyzed or even loved, being yourself is the most beautiful present you can give to the world. Find out who the fuck that is and voalá.

11. Permission to always let yourself feel love before anything else. Even when you feel the other doesn’t deserve it, even when you hate something about yourself in front of the mirror, even when you’re in the worst possible situation or have no clue what the fuck is going on. The decision to act, speak and think from a place of love, makes ALL the difference in the world.

12. Permission to be fucking graceful. To choose kindness above all. In every good or not so good situation. Grace is a gift given by the universe wrapped up in a box only you can open and try on. Acting gracefully towards life’s heartaches and injustice gives failure meaning, and success purpose. Grace is the most fantastic way to live a full life. Grace is the most fucking awesome blessing on the planet and so are you.

13. And always remember this: beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

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