On New Year’s Eve, I met up with three friends who were visiting from New York. They’d been in town for a few days already, but a fourth friend – new to me – had just arrived that morning, and was excited to start her new year off in New Orleans. She glowed with positivity and fun, and I liked her immediately. We got to talking, and soon the conversation turned to careers. Nothing out of the ordinary, right?
We talked for a few minutes about her job (she works in cancer research, which I find fascinating), then she asked what I do. I answered automatically, without putting any brain power in at all. After all, this is a question that I get asked, and thus answer, quite often. I’m an event planner. Easy bit of English, there. Not a complicated title or anything. Event. Planner. Should have been a one-and-done kind of comment.
However, that’s not at all what happened. My new friend asked me what I did, my mouth and brain disconnected, and what actually came out was, “I’m a psychedelic rock star.” Not a joke, not a slip-up, it was almost like someone else – someone with a lot more panache – was speaking.
My new friend was like, “WHOA?!? Really? That’s so cool!” She took me at my (weird af) word. Shocked, I immediately course corrected, “Oh dude, no. Sorry. I have no clue why I just said that to you.” We laughed, kept on talking, and that was that. But was it? I have to think not. I wasn’t drinking while we talked, and I was fully engaged in the conversation (at least until that precise moment).
After thinking about it for almost two days, I have to wonder if perhaps I was just deeply in touch with myself in that sliver of time. Earlier this year, I started to come to terms with my big cat inner spirit. It doesn’t surprise me that now I’ve finally connected to my core magick for a split second. Truth has been fighting its way out of me, despite my every attempt to tamp it down and try to fit in. In 2019 I’m giving in to myself. I’m finally listening.
Of course I’m not a psychedelic rock star, and I have no inner desire to pursue a life in the rock n’ roll circuit. But I do yearn to be bigger and better, more magickal, more in tune, and WAY more adventurous – all things that I connect with the concepts of psychedelia and rock stars. My psyche had a second to grasp a concept and spit it out, and it did a pretty good job. So this, my friends, is why 2019 is going to be the year of the Big Cat, the year I practice being the psychedelic snow leopard I’ve always longed to be.
My goals for the year, in no particular order, are:
- Give up time wasters:
- social media
- emotional eating
- any other thing that I notice is a big time suck that takes me away from achieving #2 – #12
- Practice healthy detachment – I don’t need to take care of the mental or physical welfare of any other adult human beings. My friends and family are all adults, and can care for themselves or hire a professional to do so. I can be available for hugs and encouragement, but their emotional baggage is not only not my responsibility, it’s not actually in my wheelhouse.
- Seek traditional and non-traditional treatment for anxiety. Make being calm a top priority for the year.
- No more manchild bullshit – it’s fine to date, if someone shows interest and actually pursues me, but no more putting energy and effort into people who can’t be bothered to return the favor. See #1.
- Start a creative endeavor – make jewelry or headbands or cat toys or origami (or all of the above, whatever), sell it, and pay off debts.
- Take care of my home. Make it a cosy, welcoming refuge. Take pride in being a decent housekeeper.
- Read one book each week.
- Focus on leveling up. Use that Big Cat energy to get out there and conquer. Accept my worth, and help other people see it, too.
- Publish the memoir.
- Take care of my health:
- Work to make my body stronger and more resilient through dance, running, hiking, and HIIT exercises.
- Care for my skin, so I can keep looking just slightly younger than I actually am.
- Shower my body with affection and attention. Remind myself in the physical and mental planes that I am beautiful and special, and I both am and will be loved.
- Travel! Hike!
- Take one honest-to-goodness class per month, and learn one new thing. It could be a dance, a craft, a history lesson – let’s not get picky, just keep the curiosity alive and kicking.
I will count myself as successful if, by the end of 2019, I can look back on a year spent in celebration, creation, and cultivation of a permanently bigger, better life. My body, mind, friendships, and finances will be in better shape. I will have a solid game plan for how to either fall in love with New Orleans, or finally escape it. I will no longer let myself feel trapped and alone here, and I won’t let anyone else make me feel that way, either.
OK, ready to get started?