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Your Permission Slip Please

 There was once a little boy who loved art with all his heart. He spent hours reading about the greatest artists in history, imagining their strokes of genius, and daydreaming about the colors and forms that must have filled their works. Yet, he had never seen a real masterpiece—only descriptions in books, secondhand whispers of their glory. One day, his teacher announced an extraordinary field trip: a visit to a museum showcasing the greatest artworks of all time. This was his chance to see the beauty he had only imagined, to experience it firsthand. The boy could hardly contain his excitement.

The trip was today. But just as the children lined up to board the bus, the teacher called out: "Permission slips, please." The boy froze. He didn’t have one. Maybe he’d been sick that day? Maybe it was left on his desk, forgotten? He watched as his classmates handed over their slips, each slightly different, but they all granted a seat on the bus. He explained to the teacher, panic rising in his chest, that he didn’t have one. Surely there must be another way?

The teacher shook her head. “No permission slip, no trip. You sure you don't have one?"

The boy answered.. "I don't"

So the boy stayed behind, staring at an empty classroom while his friends ventured into the world of art he had longed to see. When they returned, they described the paintings to him—words that only made his longing sharper, his sense of separation deeper. He had missed it. Not because he lacked desire or ability, but because he lacked a simple permission slip.

Now, let us consider this idea of permission slips—for they are not confined to school trips. Throughout life, we encounter countless symbols and beliefs that serve as our permission slips to explore the deeper truths of existence. We find them in philosophies and mythologies, in Zeus and Jesus, Buddha and Mohammed. They appear in cosmology, gemstones, mantras, and numerology. People carry four-leaf clovers, pray to angels, call upon aliens, and place trust in Santa Claus. They wear lucky underwear, believe in dragons, and swear by the power of magic.

All of these symbols are imbued with infinite power, knowledge, and truth. And yet, if you peel back the layers, what do you find? Nothing more than permission. These symbols, these beliefs, are the keys we grant ourselves to unlock the doors within. They are the tools by which we give ourselves the authority to see, to know, to experience. In truth, the power lies not in the symbols themselves but in the permission they represent. 

No outside approval necessary. 

This is why there are so many religions, so many paths to luck, so many forms of belief. Each one works because it grants internal permission. But there comes a time in your evolution when the permission slip has served its purpose. It has opened your eyes, pointed you toward the masterpiece of life. And then, like the boy who stayed behind, you realize you have an infinite number of permission slips available to you at any time.

Religion has its purpose, but when you truly see, it is no longer needed. Meditation has its purpose, but when you truly know, it is no longer needed. Even substances that open doors to unseen realms—their value lies in showing you what is already within you. But once you have seen, put them down and look around. The art is before you. The truth was never locked away or held with someone else. The permission you sought was your own all along.

So, step forward. Stop asking. Stop waiting. And realize: you were always free to see the masterpiece of life with your own eyes.




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