Maybe our minds have been lying to us.
Maybe the other shoe isn’t going to drop.
Maybe the worst-case scenario isn’t barreling towards us. Maybe everything we have doesn’t need to be clutched as tightly as possible to our chests because it’s not about to be snatched away from us without warning.
Maybe we’re allowed to exhale.
Maybe our ducks don’t need to be lined in a row.
Maybe things are allowed to get messy.
Maybe all of our worst fears aren’t coming true.
Maybe we’re allowed to be happy.
I know society tells us the opposite. I know the media’s blaring bad news. I know the planet’s warming and human rights are dwindling and it’s hard to step outside without being bombarded by some negative message or genuine cause for concern.
But maybe we’re allowed to unplug from all that.
For a day. For a weekend. For an hour, if that’s all we can allow.
Maybe we’re allowed to focus on what’s going right.
On the people who haven’t left our sides. On the work we do that makes us feel fulfilled. On the art that gives us hope. On the future that we are excited for.
Maybe we don’t have to assume that all the cards are stacked against us.
Maybe we’re allowed to make enough money to afford our own apartments and put a little bit away for savings. Maybe we’re allowed to splurge on professional or personal development. Maybe we can take the odd trip, because we want to. With no further justification than that.
Maybe we’re allowed to be loved in a way that is healthy. Maybe everyone isn’t out to get us and we don’t have to defend ourselves at all costs. Maybe partnership doesn’t have to be a matter of waiting around until somebody gets bored and cheats. Maybe it’s allowed to be enriching. And comforting. And strong.
Maybe we’re allowed to welcome the good into our lives. To enjoy what we have while we have it, without sabotaging or doubting it, because it seems too good to be true. Maybe we’re allowed to get what we want, every now and then. To hold onto it for as long as we still want.
Maybe everything is not a disaster.
Maybe nothing inside us is broken. Maybe tragedy is not a necessary component of living and we’re allowed to exist in its absence, for as long as we’re able to.
Maybe the world is not crashing down around us. Maybe everything’s not coming to an end.
Maybe we’re okay. Maybe we’re allowed to stay that way for a while.
Maybe we’re allowed to use our happiness to help and inspire those around us, instead of carrying it as an anvil of guilt inside our chests. Maybe were allowed to believe in abundance. To assume that contentment isn’t a scarce resource that we ought to not draw too much from.
Maybe we’re allowed to be exactly as happy as we decide to be.
And maybe it’s time we started deciding differently.
Maybe that’s enough to make all of the difference in the world.