Hi Easy, It's so nice to see you. I've learned to stop to check every now and then what I'm not giving myself permission to do. I always get such interesting answers. Then I give myself permission for something.
Simplistic beauty. And what an enormous proposition you left me to consider--and in twenty-five words no less. Today, in a meeting, I thought about how I never give myself permission to question authority. Then I read this and realized I did give myself permission from difficult and authoratative parents. I left home at an early age. Great post. As always, I enjoy reading.
Hi Hungry, What an amazing thing that you found your way to give yourself permission to move away from your parents. No wonder your writing voice is so strong.
Beautiful wisdom can only come from a beautiful soul. Just your presence makes me smile Liz. Once again, I'm leaving with another gift. Careful, before long, I'll have everything you own. Before you answer, I know, we all share the same oneness. What is yours is mine and what is mine is yours. Does anyone really own anything. Warms the heart non? :-)
Hugs and kisses for the nuggets of gold encrusting within your jewel of a blog. It glitters such that even the blind need sunglasses. :-)
Oh, my work-in-progress is coming along just fine. I've just recently surpassed the threshold of the climax. Thanks for your curiosity.
As for the eye . . . well, I guess it's more of a reflection of the material I write off the blog (psychological thriller genre) and probably doesn't belong on a practice or freestyle or experimental fiction blog . . .
I like it. The negative impression of the eye reminds me of someone else’s moon inside a turbulent, blue atmosphere.
Hi Jennifer, It's funny when I read you comment my brain bounced back to the last discussion of bad habits. I guess all of the time and training of asking permission from our parents put us in the habit of thinking we'll always need to ask for it.
Interesting way to leave a link to your new site. I appreciate the complimente. I hope you do indeed come back. I can't imagine how Califonia Gold got you here in the first place. But stranger things have happened. :P
Me too and I still haven't, not really and I don't know why not either.
ReplyDeleteHi Easy,
ReplyDeleteIt's so nice to see you.
I've learned to stop to check every now and then what I'm not giving myself permission to do. I always get such interesting answers. Then I give myself permission for something.
smiles,
Liz
It's hard to answer that considering that I rarely give myself permission to ask the question :-)
ReplyDeleteOh my! Eric, I guess that would put you into a bind.
ReplyDeleteCan I give you permission?
Here, I give you permission.
smiles,
Liz
...and now, like happens when you are first given permission, I don't know what to do with it! :-)
ReplyDeleteThat's okay. Just take a minute and breathe.
ReplyDeleteSimplistic beauty. And what an enormous proposition you left me to consider--and in twenty-five words no less. Today, in a meeting, I thought about how I never give myself permission to question authority. Then I read this and realized I did give myself permission from difficult and authoratative parents. I left home at an early age. Great post. As always, I enjoy reading.
ReplyDeleteHi Hungry,
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing thing that you found your way to give yourself permission to move away from your parents. No wonder your writing voice is so strong.
smiles,
Liz
Tough question!
ReplyDeleteI'm not even sure I can figure out why I've waited so long to give myself permission to give myself permissions.
As is typical of you, this really made me think.
PC
Hi Philip,
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about how your writing is going. Wanted to stop by your blog, but that eye still scares me. :)
I know you can handle the thinking I throw at you.
Like you, it took me way too long to give myself permission or even to notice that I hadn't.
smiles,
Liz
Beautiful wisdom can only come from a beautiful soul. Just your presence makes me smile Liz. Once again, I'm leaving with another gift. Careful, before long, I'll have everything you own. Before you answer, I know, we all share the same oneness. What is yours is mine and what is mine is yours. Does anyone really own anything. Warms the heart non? :-)
ReplyDeleteHugs and kisses for the nuggets of gold encrusting within your jewel of a blog. It glitters such that even the blind need sunglasses. :-)
Oh Tree,
ReplyDeleteYou write that jewel of a comment and you say that I'm the one giving YOU gifts. Look in the mirror my friend.
smiles,
Liz
{insert very big grin}
ReplyDeleteMade you smile. :)
ReplyDeleteLife seems complicated until you go down to bare essentials.
ReplyDeleteStrip ourselves of cellphones, and branded shirts. Tear out our skin and gnaw our bones. Deep down, we are all a simple soul.
Thanks for the reminder Ms. strauss.
See, you just keep giving me stuff. How will I ever repay this debt? :-)
ReplyDeleteCome visit me sometime. Einstein and Christmas is on the menu today. :-)
Little "somthin, somthin" for all.
Thank you Taoist,
ReplyDeletePlease call me Liz.
You know soon Tree, they are going to lock us in a room so that we can compliment each other to death. :P
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, I've been working so hard. I'll be over shortly.
smiles,
Liz
Liz, I could think of worst ways to die. LMAO
ReplyDeleteCome when you can. I ain't going anywhere.
Time for some Zen mountain climbing. A good friend taught me the ropes. :-)
And now you made me laugh.
ReplyDeleteI'll come as soon as I leave Sydney.
I always give my mind permission to wander, but never permission to speak. I wonder why that is?
ReplyDeleteHello Toadmaster,
ReplyDeleteWhat sort of permission is it that does not let you speak?
Only you can answer that I think.
Liz
A good wine needs time to find the right kind of permission to be fine!
ReplyDeletePOP!
Oh, my work-in-progress is coming along just fine. I've just recently surpassed the threshold of the climax. Thanks for your curiosity.
ReplyDeleteAs for the eye . . . well, I guess it's more of a reflection of the material I write off the blog (psychological thriller genre) and probably doesn't belong on a practice or freestyle or experimental fiction blog . . .
I like it. The negative impression of the eye reminds me of someone else’s moon inside a turbulent, blue atmosphere.
Take care, and thanks again.
PC
G-
ReplyDeleteI know just the fine wine of which you speak. It's sparkling just like the shiny garnet that you are.
smiles,
Liz
Philip,
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear your writing is going so well. The eye just takes a little for me to get used to I think.
Thank you for coming by,
smiles,
liz
Um...how many years do we spend answering to our parents :)
ReplyDeletePlus it's like the next step up. Suddenly the responsiblity is soley on your shoulders :)
Hi Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteIt's funny when I read you comment my brain bounced back to the last discussion of bad habits. I guess all of the time and training of asking permission from our parents put us in the habit of thinking we'll always need to ask for it.
smiles,
Lia
After all Mom and Dad are always right :) They're older and wiser as they so often told me :)
ReplyDeleteOlder and Wiser only works so long, believe me. I'm a parent and I know.
ReplyDeletesmiles,
Liz
lol It's still working for my parents...and I thought I had grown up!!
ReplyDelete:)
Hey Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteYou can't win on this one.
smiles,
Liz
Interesting way to leave a link to your new site. I appreciate the complimente. I hope you do indeed come back. I can't imagine how Califonia Gold got you here in the first place. But stranger things have happened. :P
ReplyDelete