Choosing one word to be your "theme" for the new year can be dangerous. I have chosen a word the past couple of years and, perhaps it is just wishful thinking or having a vivid imagination, but picking a word seems to result in karma for me. For example, the year I picked "trust" turned out to be a year I had to learn to trust my friends, my family and God because a lot of difficult events occurred. Another year, I chose "courage." You don’t even want to know that happened that year. Despite the dangers, I have chosen a word for 2017. My word for the coming year will be “permission”.

My friends and I went to Spartanburg this past summer to hear Glennon Doyle Melton speak. If you aren’t familiar with her, you can find out more about her blog and books here. I also read her newest book after hearing her speak. She spoke a lot about giving ourselves permission to be who and what we want to be. She talked about giving ourselves permission to think, to speak, to be bold, to be fierce and to take risks. The thing I remember most is about giving ourselves permission to change.

I usually don’t like change. I am learning that not all change is bad. Just thinking about giving myself permission to change sounds exciting. For example, deciding to take 15 credit hours next semester might seem like a great idea now, but if I realize it is too much, I can change my mind and drop a class. I am giving myself permission.

I am also giving myself permission to be happy. Sometimes I fight that feeling because I am afraid that if I am too happy, something is going to happen to take it away. I am also going to give myself permission to be sad or angry when things do happen that temporarily take away that happiness. Carrie Fisher once said that she wished people would stop talking about her aging because “it hurt all three of her feelings.” I think I have a few more than three feelings, but life is filled with good and bad. I agree to give myself permission to choose to experience them all and remember that happiness is one of my choices.

I am going to give myself permission to not be perfect. This evil monster of perfection stalks me constantly. It keeps me from writing because I can’t be as perfect as those other writers. It keeps me feeling "less-than" when I go to the gym because I don't look like the younger women who have taken care of their bodies long before reaching the age of 65. I will give myself permission to put pink or blue in my hair or get another tattoo if I choose because I am only as old as I choose to believe I am.

I don’t know how 2017 will turn out. I certainly don’t know what karma choosing the word "permission" will bring, but I am giving myself permission to find out.