The end of the year naturally comes with lots of self reflection. Combine that with the big 3-0 back in November and 2023 was quite the doozy.
Some of that reflection includes the way I approach my writing…which (in true Maggy fashion) usually consists of:
Writing snippets in my phone
Outlining a bunch of essays
Picking up 17 different projects in honor of procrastination
Never sharing any of my actual writing
I recently had one of my annual “epiphanies” (or so my husband mocks): that I was put on this earth to create. Nothing fills my soul like putting words to paper, splattering paint on a canvas, or bringing one of my 187 ideas to life. It’s this act of creating–in all its forms–that fuels me.
Which means–as part of my promise to myself–that you might be seeing this newsletter in your inboxes more often. I say might because my enthusiasm and motivation are about as permanent as a fart in the wind. And because it’s meant to address a simple goal that I created for myself and myself only: write more.
Create more.
The Raccoon*
Instead of setting resolutions like a normal person, every New Year I gather my animal spirit cards (thank you, Kim Krans), burn some candles, and do a “year ahead” reading. In the past, this looked something like me pretending to relax while I carefully reshuffled the cards over and over with my non-dominant hand (I’m a terrible shuffler to begin with), wondering if I was doing it “right.” I sometimes would even do multiple readings, just in case I picked the “wrong” cards the first time around
This year, I almost would’ve forgotten to do the reading at all, had Gagan not reminded me at 9 p.m. on the evening of January 1st. When I sat down with my lambs and snakes and cosmic eggs, I felt a shift. I no longer felt the need to find the “right” cards—I simply felt that if the cards were right, they would find me. No matter how many times I cut. No matter how terribly I shuffled. No matter if I used my non-dominant hand or not.
The card I pulled for the year was the raccoon—the embodiment of secrecy and furtiveness. I felt a small pit in my stomach form, as I never remembered it to be a particularly positive card. The description, however, suggested otherwise:
“Raccoon energy is at plan within all artists, to greater or lesser degrees…Its shadow side points to an unresolved issue around self image and success…Am I who my audience thinks I am? Am I ready to grow into something more?”
The description rang differently for me now, as if present circumstances can alter words in the same way a canvas can alter a painting.
Trust the process. Never stop creating.
*Originally written in January 2023. No, I did not plan this.
What I’m choosing to carry with me
I was getting drinks with a friend a few weeks ago when he said, “It feels like the end of an era.” He was referring to his own life and circumstances, but it was a thought that had crossed my mind consistently in weeks prior. Something was shifting.
I’ve tried to avoid being cliche with one of those “30 things I learned before turning 30” or “12 things I learned this year” lists, but I do love a good cliche. And while thirty anything feels excessive, I compiled a list of 13 reminders that I want to carry with me into the next decade. Not epiphanies or “lessons learned”–just simple reminders.
So my hopes are that one (or maybe a few) resonate with you, too.
Setting boundaries only works if you actually enforce them.
Two things are often true at once.
Never underestimate the power of surrounding yourself with people who believe in you.
The same goes for those who doubt you.
Decisions made out of fear are rarely good ones.
You can probably do it all on your own, but you’ll get there a lot faster with help.
If you ever think it’s too late to do something, remember that the time will pass whether you do it or not.
If the people around you are surprised by your success, it’s time to surround yourself with different people.
Stop making excuses for people you love simply because you love them.
Fresh air tends to be the best form of self care.
If you don’t take your goals seriously, no one else will.
Your best should be reserved for the people who deserve it, not the ones who ask for it.
And most importantly…
13. Perhaps the most profound thing you will do in this life is trust yourself.
Inspiration (and amusement) station:
This piece by a fellow travel writer about how Bhutan is a growing bucket-list destination. (Spoiler alert—it’s on mine.)
A cruise company called Life at Sea cancelled what was meant to be an inaugural three-year cruise. The reason? They didn’t have an actual ship.
This lovely essay from one of my favorite newsletters, featuring this beautiful quote: “Traveling isn’t a result of escaping all my problems; it’s a way to get closer to everything I never knew was there.”
Currently reading:
Eat a Peach by David Chang