Happy New Year!

...the planets align....

Jan 21, 2025

For weeks, I took solace in the words of online folks who interpret the stars for a different timeline to start this new year…

…2025 begins today, some folks said.

If you follow Human Design, the “Rave New Year” begins tomorrow, January 22.

For billions of people following the traditional Chinese lunisolar calendar, the Lunar New Year in 2025 starts on January 29, and lasts for about 16 days until February 16.

So, waiting for a new new year felt great to me, since I wasn’t ready to commit to making any new commitments, even though there’s plenty I’d love to resolve.

Lifetime-conditioned by the resolutioning lemming march into new years past, I still felt the push from that control-wizard behind the curtain, to make life orderly with a new self-improvement routine.

And, the pull of unexplored territory, calling me to drop what has never worked, like anchors off the starboard bow, and set sail into the wide blue sea of mystery.

Since the Sunday Rabbit Whole post just 2 days ago, which was actually created over months but just written in the few days leading to last Tuesday…

A lot has happened.

Another perfect storm, in fact.

Yes, more work overload, home intense schedule (equals more intense mental and emotional overwhelm…).

Yes, so much fun, jumbled in a washing machine of so much “I can’t do this again…really…this time I mean it!”….

You know when you throw a pair of just laundered shoes in the dryer? That rhythmic clunking sound?

That’s what the rock hurtling around my aura felt like this weekend, except like it was spewing molten radioactive lava, as the sun throws burning rays from all sides of the fiery sphere.

In a rare exercise of restraint, mainly for time awareness, I’ll spare the details of my latest dumpster-turned-dimensional fire ;)

What is so worth sharing, friends, is the aftermath of fresh-scorched landscape appearing for my New Year today.

Yes, I’m claiming today as my 2025 New Year’s Day.

Yippee!!! 🥳

But first…

That Sunday Rabbit Whole got me good.

As I wrapped up the post, I felt elation that I had found the golden egg at the end of my labyrinth-writing….

Then the growing remorse seeped in, demanding that, this time, I’d gone too far. Said too much…intimate details, deep thought processes…totally blown my cover now. Ugh.

“Oh, well, I have until Sunday to edit, maybe pare it down? Definitely re-read after a little distance…”, I thought.

Commence ridiculous insta-illness (thank you, healthcare facility/petri dish for sharing!), and in-and-out-of-consciousness rare glimpses of “I’ll still have time before Sunday…”.

But then I didn’t.

When I woke after it posted Sunday as scheduled, my gut clenched with overwhelming dread at what I had done, what impact that expose would make…as if the whole of my subscriber list would out my true colors and…gosh knows.

Hours later, when I realized, since it was the Sunday Rabbit Whole, and paywalled past the intro…only paid subscribers had access...everything shifted.

That meant - “spared by a miracle!” - a cherished few folks would have access to the content…and only that few.

Whew.

First, the relief. Then the whole-body laughter at my hubris, the actual absurdity of any of the buildup, and a much sweeter sense of humility about what even matters…

Mostly, because I really have no idea what matters in the big picture.

And more, because by Monday, the thick cloud of smoke and ash was clearing enough for me to see what mattered to me.

When I took a break from charting yesterday morning to touch my piano, a spontaneous “Cry Me A River” stunned me and crystalized who I am.

The sound, the feel, the instantaneous click of “I’m supposed to be here, now, expanding into this unfolding creative juicyness”, stood like a phoenix that had been ever-present through all of the storms.

When I left the piano to hack at the mega-mountain of patient charts that were thrown aside during the morph-into-exorcist last week, the phoenix of me knew what to do next.

I texted a bestie to set up coffee, another for a Friday night tea, and scheduled an appointment w my counselor to check-in…best to get some feedback on the map I was charting into a new wilderness.

The rest of the day carried me like a holographic conveyor through flashbacks of trauma, frames of kaleidoscope perspective, and bubbles of clarity for moving on, full of warm sun-bright knowing.

As I set to sleep last night, visions of “past” popping in then disappearing into white-gray ash…

“I’m ok hanging out in this new Now”, I thought.

Are you ok? Know someone who needs a giggle, maybe?

This morning, when I set to charting, I had just finished my first TM session in years (🙏 David Lynch , what a weekend🥲). I was floating in a wave of “it’s all ok”, feeling welcome relief from the multi-day maelstrom.

Until I got a text from my bestie, asking if I wanted her to buy me a coffee? OH GAWD!!! Coffee w bestie!!! Totally forgot.

Throwing on what only can be described as militant soccer mom fashionista as I flew to the car, I called to check in, “still have time? …on my way!”

Driving to the coffee shop, I noticed the strangeness to everything mundane. Lighter maybe? At the same time more rainbow-y? Iridescent? Indescribable.

I parked, found and hugged my friend, laughing with her at my space-out and sitting to share the story of whirlwind weekend and the recent landing in what felt like a different dimension-zone.

I told her thanks for her recent audiobook recommendations, I had started “The Tao of Fully Feeling” by Pete Walker, and opening to that richness was a big part of the flood waters perfecting the recent storm.

We laughed since out of the 4 books she gave me, that one wasn’t from her…it was a thread from another connection over the weekend, with another story for another time I think….

In the first few chapters of that book, there was validation for the human need to commiserate, to allow blame and it’s fury as essential territory to clear before climbing to acceptance and forgiveness. It was liberating, scary, and more real than I had been allowing myself to be for a long time.

So I spoke, spilling the tea as she listened with her soul, eyes warm and kind. She gave me space to feel seen, heard, safe. Ahhhh…. 😌

Friend, that meant the Universe to me, to know your heart and deep wisdom, the experiences you’ve shared from your own cosmic path, and have your presence there as a gift.✨

We dodged rabbit holes, chuckled at stupid human tricks, and eventually arrived at my tale of trepidation then entertainment-at-my-own-expense with the Sunday Rabbit Whole post…and the click of this Universe resounded almost audibly.

“I read it!”, She laughed, harder and harder while she squeaked out, “I haven’t read anything in so long, I mean, I’m a paid subscriber, I just…”

OMG what are the chances?! We hollared like only two humans given a little let-in on the magical mystery of this wonder-verse can…those moments were priceless.

More invaluable were her words next, she liked the post, really loved the writing, in her opinion it was not too much….

If you read the post, you know one of my issues is the self-censorship of “don’t be too much”….

So I told her my gratitude, with the story of earlier this morning, a kitchen-counter liberation I’d had while making my teen’s breakfast before school today.

Washing berries and pouring milk in a bowl, I was savored the clearing air and contentment of our morning routine when there was background pondering, my loverman’s question days earlier… “I still think there is some core wound, some anger and hurt…?”.

For so long, I had agreed on “core wounds”, believed in the bedrock damage done to break me into pieces I’d been recovering for all of time. I knew this as true. You better bet I have the boxes of files ready to admit into evidence, ha!

This morning, ala Bashar, the loose flow of soft-thoughts whispered, “I believe I have a core wound”, at the same time I was seeing and feeling the internal representation of this “core wound”.

Laughter erupted like a bazooka-gun confetti explosion, as I bent over, smacking my knees, realizing, “I believe I have a core wound…how dumb is that?!”

“Why would I choose to believe that monkeypox?!!”…”AHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!” 🤣

Poof!

Said insanity evaporated, as I went on to mom a bit before getting kiddo out the door.

PS, I’m still not sure how this copyright thing works, and I’m sharing this here bc it directly links to YT…but maybe I need to call Sting to ask for sharing permission? Anyhoo, obvs Sting is the GOAT and owns everything, so there’s that.

the bast

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