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Permission Slip

You already know what you want to do. Permission Slip is a letter about the moment you stop asking and start trusting what you know. Real stories from my life and the founders I work with. Saturdays, and sometimes more when something can’t wait. Join 550+ readers - about half open every letter.

I saved a bumble bee yesterday

Hi Reader,

Good news: I don't believe you!

Hi Reader, My year is accelerating. Big time. For the last couple of weeks it's felt like January is just moments away. So to celebrate time speeding up, I've been slowing down. October was a busy month of travel, and I'm no good to anyone running on fumes. The last few days have been filled with space. Working slowly instead of under pressure. Plenty of rest between calls. And in that slower pace, I've been looking back. This time of year is a natural moment to check in on the goals you set...

I had to give myself permission first

Hi Reader, I have a confession. There have been times I’ve hired a coach or a mentor just to hear them say, “Yeah, of course, go ahead.” I already knew what I wanted to do. I just wanted someone to tell me I was allowed. That need followed me everywhere. When I brought my marketing background into wildlife conservation, part of me kept checking whether my way of working was okay. When I stepped into healing work, I looked at the mystics and psychics I admired, some with 20 or 30 years of...

The promise I didn’t keep

Hi Reader, We’d spent months planning our exit to warmer waters. At the beginning of the year, a move abroad felt like the right decision. Every part of me agreed. And yet October ultimately culminated in my husband and I receiving our permanent residency in the UK! Let me back up. October was an interesting month. So much shifted beneath my feet I could hardly plant them down long enough to see what direction I was walking. The month was full of hotel stays, writing, hiking, and exploring...

Oops! What I meant was... I didn’t believe I could do it

Hi Reader, Some days we get everything right. Some days we don't. Here's a second shot at today's email 😅 I recently locked myself away for four days to write. Before that, I was on Instagram and LinkedIn every day. Answering everyone I love. Giving every bit of my attention away, with nothing left for the thing I really wanted to do. The first morning, I did everything but write. I needed a coffee. Then a walk. Then I realized I didn’t have a pen, so I needed a pen. And then a new notebook....

I felt like I didn't belong there

Hi Reader, A few days ago I stood outside a hotel in Shoreditch, on the phone to my husband, filled with rage. I'd just spent an entire day in a room full of women I admire. Founders. Authors. Women running businesses far bigger than mine, all of them generous with what they knew. And I left furious. It took me a while to work out what the anger was actually about. It wasn't them. It was me, sitting in the audience as a consumer, when I know I could be the one on that stage. Then came dinner....

One wing free

Hi Reader, Yesterday I saved a bumble bee from certain death. I was at the kitchen table with my morning coffee, notebook open, eyes drifting toward the sunshine. Then something huge flew through the air and smashed into a spider's web. It hit so hard it looked like it had flown straight into glass. I couldn't tell what it was. I just jumped up from my chair and ran outside. It was a bumble. A huge one, stuck smack in the center of the web. Now, I don't want a spider to suffer any more than I...

The awards I never won

Hi Reader, Back in my WWF days, a colleague of mine was picking up award after award for her conservation work. Genuinely deserved. She was the real thing. I remember one afternoon, she turned to me and said, "Amanda, you're going to get so many awards for your work. It's all coming." I was in my mid-twenties. I didn't really know what she meant. I didn't know how you got the awards, or when, or what for. But I held onto those words like a small quiet promise. And for years afterward, every...

I said it out loud 🥁

Hi Reader, Last Thursday I stood on a stage in a long brown lace gown, stiletto heels I hadn't worn in London since almost the day I moved there, my drum on the floor beside me and a microphone in my hand. Then I opened my mouth. "Welcome to the Psychic Salon. I'm Amanda Parker. I'm a psychic, writer, and oracle." I had been forewarned by my fellow speakers not to shy away from claiming that word. Not to hand the "expert" title over to them and hide behind the role of host. To take my place...

Three psychics, one rooftop, next Friday

Hi Reader, The Psychic Salon is a little less than one week away — and I've been waiting to tell you who's joining me on stage at The Century Club. Two of the most gifted psychics I know are flying in for this. One from Ibiza. One from Chicago. Both spending an evening with us in one intimate room in Soho. Saskia Nefkens — psychic medium, psychologist, and co-founder of Not Your Average Psychic — is flying in from Ibiza. Saskia has a grounded, ancient, earthy quality to her — she speaks...

You already know what you want to do. Permission Slip is a letter about the moment you stop asking and start trusting what you know. Real stories from my life and the founders I work with. Saturdays, and sometimes more when something can’t wait. Join 550+ readers - about half open every letter.