Permission

About a year ago, I read Seth Godin’s Lynchpin.  In it, he talked about permission.  The anecdote was Richard Branson getting stuck in an airport and, instead of sitting around helplessly, he found out how much it would cost to charter a plane, then put up a sign advertising seats to the destination of the plane that had been cancelled.  People bought seats and off he went to his destination.

I know my backside wouldn’t have done it.  I would have been thinking that I didn’t have the permission to put up a sign, it might be perceived as weird, or that there was some rule written down somewhere that explicitly said that I was not allowed to do such a profoundly sensible thing.

Ever since then, I’ve been thinking about permission.  Who is qualified to give me permission?  What can I do that doesn’t require permission?  What permissions are mine to give myself?  If habits are the key to everything, then I might be making progress.  I now habitually ask myself what I can do that doesn’t require permission.

Next, I just need to work on doing that thing more consistently.

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Permission

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