by Katie Rasoul
First, listen and identify if you have seen this lesson before. Perhaps you have not, because you are a quick learner. Or perhaps this is the third time you worked for a narcissist boss, and you recognize it is time to learn the damn lesson already.
Second, when you feel yourself out of alignment, ask your intuition what the lesson is here to learn. Instead of trying to “figure” it out with your head, try and “feel” it out with your heart. Listen quietly for the true right path to appear as an option.
Finally, if you’ve tried everything, it is time to let go and try complete trust. Sometimes, we feel like we are working so hard and trying everything possible to accomplish something! We might say to ourselves, “It shouldn’t be this hard, and why is nothing working?” Perhaps letting go is the one thing you haven’t tried. When I have experienced this in my own life, once I released control and truly and freely gave complete trust that the universe had me covered, the universe came through. No explanation. It’s just worth a try.

Try It: Assignments and Intuition Activity
Think of an example from the past when a lesson presented itself more than once. Write it down, along with the answers to these questions. Why did it show up again? What prevented you from learning the lesson the first time? What did you do to finally complete the assignment?
Now, think of something that is currently leaving you feeling conflicted. Ask yourself, have you seen this lesson before? What is really bugging you about this situation? Sit and listen to your gut, and ask yourself, what is the next true, right move to complete the assignment and align to your values? Sleep on it before you make a decision, to allow your intuition time to process.
Activity 8: Allowing Yourself Permission
“Stop asking people for directions to places they’ve never been.” – Glennon Doyle
I have always been a rule follower. I like knowing the rules of engagement and living in structure rather than chaos, and I appreciate when things are fair and predictable. When I realized that some of the rules people set for me, or that I set for myself, were not helpful, I saw the opportunity to make new rules for myself. I loved order, but when was it beyond necessary? And exactly whose permission was I waiting for?
Permission from Others
We have grown up our whole lives believing that there is someone else who is granting permission out there, and that we should make sure we have it before we proceed. This came in the form of parents, teachers, coaches, and then bosses approving of our actions. I am not suggesting that these societal structures should be ignored. But we became so used to the muscle memory of always seeking approval from others, that we missed the opportunities to make our own conscious decisions out of pure habit. We seek permission from others in a lot of forms: approval of how we dress and the lifestyle we choose or support from a close family member to go start our own business.
Sometimes, we don’t even give others the opportunity to weigh in to give permission, ultimately holding ourselves back. We assume others will not give it, and so we don’t ask in the first place. I see this a lot with younger people in their twenties (and I experienced it myself), where we don’t ask for something we want because of a high fear of rejection or an assumption that they’ll deny it. I remember having a conversation with someone who worked in a relatively flexible job, who would not ask her boss permission to attend a professional development event that would have her getting into the office late at 9:30 a.m. I did the same thing when I was younger, and I wished that my former self (and this young woman) knew that it was totally okay to ask for what she wanted.
What I also know now, is that this was just an example of not giving permission to ourselves.
Permission from Ourselves
The permission we give ourselves is the most powerful type of permission, both when it is granted or withheld. We give or withhold permission from ourselves, or perhaps, just as importantly, aren’t aware enough to ask ourselves before our subconscious shoots us down. We often attach shame to permission, and we tell ourselves we can’t have or do something because we don’t deserve it. We tell ourselves we shouldn’t be happy during a dark time, or we didn’t work hard enough to earn it. Think of a time when you whispered that to yourself deep down. Would you ever say that to a friend you cared about? Of course not. But there we are, beating ourselves up and whispering, because we know we aren’t supposed to be talking shit to ourselves in the first place.
I find that while both men and women experience this, there is a unique quality in many women that leads us into this trap more frequently. Maybe it is because society has systemically told us to be quiet and take up as little space as possible our whole lives. We subconsciously have heard the message to wait our turn, wait for permission, and someone will let us know when we can go. We can also be masters at accepting the weight of the world on our shoulders, assuming that we can, and should, do it on our own. For men or women alike, there are certainly unconscious stories that we tell ourselves that keep us from embracing the grace and permission to live with joy and freedom.
Here is a new truth to consider: everything is a choice. Sometimes those choices may seem impossible, but they are, in fact, choices. You can become aware of and choose as much happiness as you are willing to authorize for yourself.
Here is a starter list of things to give yourself permission to do:
Do nothing.
Have patience.
Live your dream.
Release shame and guilt.
Forgive your or others’ missteps.
Show yourself and others your authentic self.
Be happy after loss.
Write new rules for yourself and release the old ones.
Give yourself the grace that you afford your most treasured friends.
Start fresh.
For me, I needed to allow myself the permission to be different from the person I always thought I was. I needed to give myself the okay to live without fear of “what if.” If I labeled these differently in socially accepted labels, I would say that I have always been an “overachiever” and a “Type A personality,” or a good organizer. Those sound like something to really aspire to, right? And therein lies the problem. We want ourselves and our kids to be successful, well-adjusted, organized, bound for big things. But if we only show that we want more and more of these behaviors and we never say that it is enough, it can be hard for high-achievers to know when to stop. And those words that sound so good as descriptions are just tinder for some really outrageous internal dialogues.
One of my biggest problems was how closely I identified with being a high-achiever. If I’m not a high-achiever, does that mean that I must be a low-achiever? If I’m not organized, does that mean I have to walk around like Flighty Hot Mess Barbie? I always saw the alternative options as binary, black or white. The other side of the coin didn’t look very inviting in that light. There had to be a “Door Number Three” to a world where I didn’t have to be either a psycho or a degenerate.
I had to allow myself the idea that I could achieve big things, without carrying the heavy weight of feeling like it could all fall apart at any moment if I took my foot off the gas. This was the fear of “what if.” What if I failed a test? What if I got fired from a job? I know now that those lessons would have been valuable in the end result, but in my old state before recognizing the opportunity to change, I would have been sure that those failures would have ruined my empire, as if my whole life up until that point was weighing on the outcome of that one test or that one job. Now, I allow myself the permission to take the good (e.g., the motivation) and shed the parts that are weighing me down (e.g., the fear).
In her book, Braving the Wilderness, Brené Brown describes a practice that she uses for giving herself permission. Over the years, she has written herself countless permission slips. Just like the ones that you sign for your children to attend a field trip at school, you take a piece of paper and explicitly write out the permission you are
granting for yourself. In the book, she describes how she wrote herself a permission slip to have fun while filming Super Soul Sunday with Oprah. And so, she did. Brené also reminds us that having permission is part of the equation, but walking forward and doing it is another part of it.
One way to really solidify change and hold yourself accountable is to tell someone about what you are doing and the new permission you are allowing for yourself. Tell your coach, a trusted friend, or anyone else who can be supportive and hold space for you to do your work. If others ask you about it and call you out when you are not honoring your new rule, you will feel more inclined to hold yourself to it.

Try It: Permission Activity
Here is an activity that you can use to pinpoint where you can allow yourself permission.
Find just one thing you are not giving yourself permission for. What is it? Write it down.
Write down the current statement you are telling yourself about that topic, the sentence that sums up why you are blocking your own permission and peace for that area of your life.
Write down a new rule that allows you the permission you are seeking from yourself. This should be a kinder, more supportive, and expansive version that allows you all the possibility you need. Put it on notes in prominent places to get used to the new idea.
Take one small, first action toward doing what you want to do and living this new possibility. Extra credit, over-achiever? Take another step. And another. And another.
Activity 9: Experiments in Bold Moves
“Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” – Lewis Carroll
Just the other day, three people over the course of 24 hours called me courageous. To be honest, this was never really a word that I associated myself with for most of my life.
As an introvert, I am not someone who has regularly spoken up loudly or talked in a meeting just to talk. I speak when I have something to say, and the rest of the time I spend listening and observing. As you can imagine, when people don’t witness outward acts of courage, persistence, or blabbering, sometimes they make assumptions that you aren’t very daring. Without a doubt, I have missed opportunities to be courageous in my life and career, but I also refuse to subscribe to this one-dimensional description of what courage should look like.
I heard this story a lot early in my career. I worked for a company that had a strong culture and regularly used leadership competencies as a common language to describe people’s strengths and weaknesses, and to help leaders frame up their personal feedback for their teams. I regularly received feedback that I needed to demonstrate more courage. I heard this enough that it still comes as a surprise when someone tells me directly that they think I am courageous. At the same time, I know that is an old story about my leadership that just simply isn’t true anymore, and it wasn’t the whole truth then either.
One of the key actions I practiced while going through my recent period of transformation described in this book was to experiment in bold moves. I was feeling stuck, and I wanted to purposely and regularly put myself out of my comfort zone to stretch the limits. I looked for ways, big and small, to go outside what I would normally do, by either doing something totally different or by stretching what I was doing to be much bigger. And I worked to eliminate the people and situations that made me feel small.
I began to realize part of the equation with taking bold moves meant taking risks. If I look back at my history, it is quite clear that I have, in fact, never taken on a risk that I couldn’t master. It appears that I have accomplished a lot in my life and career, and I have. But what I had never done was to put myself in a situation where I could possibly fail when it was really important. Here is the pattern: I did everything well, but was never particularly great at anything. I swam on the varsity swim team, but I was never the best. I danced in the best competitive dance group, but I was never the best dancer. I went to a good college, but not a university where I was out of my league. What if I had applied for an Ivy League school? What if I got accepted? That would have been scary as hell, because I would have felt a little out over my skis. Nope. A quality business program at a state school is totally something I could nail. I had a proven track record of playing it safe and being among the best in an environment that was never going to get the better of me.
When I made the commitment to begin experimenting in bold moves, I realized I needed to take risks, but I also needed to start small to build up my danger tolerance over time. For me, the answer was not to go out, buy a motorcycle, take up base jumping, or take other completely uncalculated risks. It was about following my heart and stretching the dream and the action to be bigger than it ever was before.
Here are some of the ways I purposely exercised my courage muscles, to give you some ideas:
Find tiny, everyday ways to step out of your rut. I read articles from totally new sources to learn how other perspectives (ones I didn’t even know existed) were formed. When I went to restaurants I knew well, I ordered something abnormal off the menu that I would have normally ignored. I rode a bike for the first time in over 15 years (I had a few falls in my youth and never really got back on my bike after that, until now). I would drive down roads I had never been on, just to finally find out what was there. Having this “every moment” mentality of trying new things and being uncomfortable helped grow resiliency for some of the bigger exercises.
Surround yourself with next level people. I actively sought to meet people and build relationships with people who were inspiring and made me want to rise to their level. I approached it with a beginner’s mindset and wanted to constantly feel as if I had much to learn. I could only hope to give value back to the community of badassery that I was curating. Over a year later, I am amazed at the collective brilliance of the people who surround me. It makes me better and always keeps me on my toes.
Put yourself in uncomfortable situations. Warning: this does not mean unsafe situations or dark alley lurking. To give myself a regular few moments of heart-pounding each week, I joined an impromptu public speaking group. Since (like many introverts) I much prefer to be very prepared before I speak, impromptu freaks me out. I spent time with people I would have never met at events I would have never experienced if I hadn’t made a conscious choice to be completely out of my element. It has been exhilarating and easy to see the progress of gaining comfort and courage in what was previously untouchable.
Dream bigger – to the true end game. While I still fall back into “planning small” versus “dreaming big” now and again, I constantly ask myself if the goal I am considering could be bigger, and then I put the universe in motion to help handle it. I frequently ask my clients what they want in life and then challenge them to dream bigger. Their answers go from getting that promotion this year (planning small) to President of the organization (dreaming big), a dream they probably never actually even said out loud before. Once you stop stunting yourself with too-small goals, then write down the big end game, make a good old-fashioned vision board, write a one-year and five-year vision to put in exact detail what that looks like, and stay out of your own way.
Act as if it were already happening. Once I decided on my big, hairy goal, I acted as if it was already happening. I decided in 2017 that I was finally going to go after my bucket list item of doing a TEDx talk. I began with a mindset of desperation, hoping I would get accepted, and then felt devastated when I saw the rejection note and thought, “I’ll never get selected.” Instead, I applied at another city and wrote a new (and much improved) topic, and already knew the next three cities where I would apply if I didn’t get accepted. My new approach was to act as if it was already happening. It was no longer a matter of IF I would do a TEDx talk, it was a matter of WHEN. I took a class on how to construct and give a good talk, before I was ever accepted as a speaker anywhere. I had my whole talk written before I applied. And, the very next one I applied for, I was selected. My bucket list turned from stuff I
want to do someday far away to things I am going to accomplish this year.
Bucket list, you just got leveled up.

Try It: Bold Moves Activity
Pick something scary. I will let you decide if you have to start small here or if you have the chops to go big, but don’t sell yourself short. The key is to create the feelings of discomfort, then exhilaration, and perhaps pride. Do you have your hairy scary in mind? Good. Write it down.
Now write down a bigger version of that goal. And write a bigger version of that bigger goal. And finally, write an even bigger version. Where did you end up? Pick the biggest one you are willing to take on. If it doesn’t feel scary, you aren’t focused on the right thing or the right scope. Go bigger.
Write down the very next step that you are going to take toward that goal (just the one next step). Add in when you are going to do it by and how you will know you’ve completed it. Then, go do it, and journal about how it felt to stretch.
Rinse and repeat.
Activity 10: Be Still and Alone
“Love works miracles in stillness.” – Herbert Read
I do my best work alone. Of course, I have to interact and collaborate with other people constantly, and this is critical for me to be able to do great work later. However, I need time and space to myself to really be able to dial into my best ideas, which is a classic introvert tendency. How I ever got any work done at all in a corporate or operational setting where I was usually too busy to eat or pee is beyond me. As I reflect now, even though I always did great work, I was nowhere near maximizing my potential, because I did not have enough space or time to process and create.