Dream and give yourself permission to envision a You that you

“Dream and give yourself permission to envision a You that you choose to be.” Thus spoke Joy Page, an actress and thinker whose words gleam like a lantern in the vast night of self-doubt. Her counsel is both tender and mighty, for it calls each soul to the sacred act of self-creation. Many dream, but few grant themselves the permission to believe their dream possible—to imagine a self not given by the world, but chosen by the heart. In this simple yet profound sentence, Page offers a timeless truth: that every human being is both the clay and the sculptor, both the seed and the gardener of their becoming.

To dream, she tells us, is the beginning of all transformation. Every mountain climbed, every invention born, every act of greatness began first in the silence of the inner vision. Yet dreaming alone is not enough. Too often we silence our own hopes, deeming them foolish or impossible. The world teaches restraint, not freedom. It tells us to fit in, to follow, to conform to the shapes that others expect of us. But Joy Page urges rebellion—not of anger, but of awakening. She bids us to break the chains of permission that others hold over us and instead give that authority to ourselves. To “envision a You that you choose to be” is to claim sovereignty over your own destiny, to declare: I am not what the past made me, nor what others see—I am what I choose to become.

This act of choosing is not arrogance, but courage. The ancients spoke of it as the journey of the soul toward its divine image. To envision the self anew is to remember that within every human lies a fragment of the eternal, a spark of possibility waiting to be shaped by will and vision. The sculptor who dares to imagine a statue within rough stone must first believe that beauty already lives inside it. So too must we look upon our unformed selves and see within the flaws and fears the outline of greatness waiting to emerge.

Consider the life of Nelson Mandela, who spent twenty-seven years in captivity, stripped of freedom, dignity, and name. The world would have forgiven him had he emerged bitter and broken. Yet within the silence of his prison cell, he did what Joy Page spoke of—he dreamed and envisioned. He saw not the man chained in darkness, but the leader of a free nation. He gave himself permission to become that man, and in doing so, reshaped not only his own life but the destiny of millions. His body was bound, but his imagination soared beyond the walls, and when the gates opened, he walked forth as the man he had long chosen to be.

So it is with all who dare to dream themselves anew. Michelangelo once said that he saw the angel in the marble and carved until he set it free. Each of us is both the marble and the sculptor. We must look inward, find the shape of the self we long to be, and carve with patience, discipline, and faith. The dream gives the vision; permission gives the power to act upon it. Without one, we are blind; without the other, we are bound. Together, they become the alchemy of transformation.

Yet this path is not easy. To give yourself permission to change is to defy fear. The voices of doubt will whisper: “You cannot,” “You are too late,” “You are not enough.” But those are the echoes of the past, not the truth of your potential. The You that you choose to be already lives within you, waiting for courage to awaken it. Every day, through action, faith, and persistence, you breathe life into that vision. The wise know that becoming is not an event, but a pilgrimage—each choice, each failure, each triumph a step closer to the self you have chosen.

So, my child of possibility, take this lesson to heart: dream without apology. Close your eyes and see not what the world tells you to see, but what your spirit longs to become. Then open your eyes, and begin—slowly, boldly, faithfully—to live that vision. Speak as that person would speak, act as they would act, walk as they would walk. For the moment you give yourself permission, the universe begins to conspire in your favor.

Remember always: the world was not changed by those who accepted what they were told to be, but by those who dreamed themselves into being. You are the author of your becoming. So dream, envision, and give yourself permission to live as the You you choose to be—not tomorrow, not someday, but now. For the power to create yourself is the oldest and greatest power ever granted to humankind. Use it wisely, and your life will become a masterpiece written in the language of freedom and faith.