You hand the choice to someone else

There will be an open seat with no one’s name on it.

I want to talk about that seat.

You used to go to movies. You used to scan the listings and feel a pull toward something specific, a story that matched your mood, an actor whose face you trusted.

At some point, movies became a group decision. What is everyone in the mood for, what starts at a convenient time, what works for the whole household.

Your preference entered the room and then politely sat down. Eventually it stopped entering the room at all.

The last several movies you watched were probably chosen by someone else. Or chosen by default because no one had a strong opinion and you had stopped offering yours.

That is not the same as not having one. It is just quieter.

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Here is what I want you to do this weekend. Go to a movie alone.

I sent you once already, back in July. If you went, go again; if you did not, consider this the second invitation.

A matinee, if you can. Something about walking into a dark theater while the sun is still out feels like a small private rebellion.

Pick the movie yourself. Not the one with the best reviews, not the one you should see, but the one that makes something in you curious.

If nothing jumps out, pick the one with the most interesting poster. That is a fine way to choose.

Buy yourself whatever you want at the concession stand. The large popcorn, the box of candy you have not eaten since you were twenty, or nothing at all.

Sit wherever you want. Let someone else’s story wash over you for two hours while yours gets a rest.

You do not need a reason beyond wanting to. One ticket is a complete transaction.

Check what is playing at the theater nearest you. Pick one afternoon showing this Saturday or Sunday, and buy the ticket online before you have a chance to talk yourself out of it.

And tell me what you saw. Hit reply. I read them.

Today, notice the next time you are asked what you want and you hand the choice to someone else. Just notice it.

Monday, we slow down. Just a few quiet words and nothing asked of you.

See you Monday.

If someone came to mind while you were reading this, send her these letters. The Permission Slips are yours when she stays.