This one came out fast. Just poured out, really. I almost didn’t send it, but that felt like the old version of me talking. The one still trying to tidy up before being seen.

So here it is. No cleanup. Just the truth of where I am today, with ten hours left in the year.

There are only ten hours left.

Ten hours until the year ends.

What will happen in the next ten hours? The possibilities seem endless. The energy in the room is fuck off with all that old shit.

You know the shit.

The old habits and patterns that need to die. Shed like dry, flaky skin. The old skin no longer serves you anyway. You’ve grown. In the process, you’ve changed. Physically.

It can feel uncomfortable. The change. Painful even.

Watching an old sense of self slip off and away is scary. Who wants to experience loss?

When the transformation happens, we often cling to the old skin. “Please don’t go,” we cry. “You’ve protected me for so long. What will I do now?” So, we disrupt the change. Robbing ourselves of growth.

But it’s better to let go. Let it drop.

Your new skin will be soft and vulnerable. But not forever.

This new skin will serve you and protect you until the next molt, the next powerful transformation, the next stage of your spiritual evolution.

So look at your fears. Stare them in the eyes. Tell them, “I’m dropping your ass.”

2026, let’s do this.

What are you shedding before 2026? I’d love to hear. Drop it in the comments.

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