A Snake Some Wood and Me.

Musings on 2025 and my goals three.

2025 feels like it slithered in with a purpose. The Chinese zodiac’s Wood Snake energy is already whispering, “Shed, release, transform.” I picture it coiled patiently, giving me a long, judgmental look, as if to say, You’ve been carrying that old baggage for too long, darling. Let it go before it grows legs and starts haunting you.

It’s not a threatening presence, though. The snake comes bearing wisdom and intuition, paired with the nurturing vibes of wood. It feels like the universe’s reminder that growth isn’t about charging ahead—it’s about pruning dead branches, clearing the underbrush, and making space for fresh blooms. 2025 isn’t shouting for change; it’s quietly nudging me to clean up, inside and out.

Renewal Through Release

“Renewal through release” is the mantra for the year. It feels like spring cleaning for the soul. Old habits? Gone. Emotional clutter? Decluttered. The suitcase of unresolved feelings? It’s time to unpack that mess. Even my inbox, which currently resembles a digital landfill, is up for a karmic cleanse.

The energy of this year isn’t just personal; it feels collective. There’s a buzz in the air about environmental stewardship, community engagement, and leaving the world better than we found it. It’s the kind of vibe that makes me want to finally plant that herb garden—or at least stop pretending I know what to do with a basil plant.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The snake doesn’t sprint; it glides, deliberate and poised. It’s a year to pace myself, to trade my to-do list frenzy for thoughtful planning, and to lean into that calm, wise part of me that everyone else seems to notice before I do.

A Vision That Feels Like Home

As someone people see me as a healer and nurturer, I feel like I’m standing at a crossroads with 2025’s energy. I have this pull—this yearning—to carve a space that radiates peace and acceptance. A legacy, if you will. Not the “my name on a library wing” kind, but the kind where people leave my space with lighter shoulders and fuller hearts.

That’s my North Star for the year: healing, guiding, and creating something enduring. But first, let’s talk goals—the ones I hope will keep me anchored while I dance to 2025’s melody of renewal.

Three Personal Goals

1. Drop the Emotional Baggage
   I’ve been carrying some emotional suitcases that should’ve been left on the carousel ages ago. This year, I’m unpacking them piece by piece. Journaling, mindfulness, and a touch of hypnotherapy (the perks of being a certified practitioner) will be my tools.
2. Strengthen My Inner Compass
   2025’s wisdom vibes feel tailor-made for tuning into my intuition. I plan to meditate, reconnect with my Tulu roots, and indulge in some deep, soulful reading. Think less scrolling, more soul-searching.
3. Prioritize Vitality
   It’s time to treat my body with the respect it deserves. Light exercise, better sleep hygiene, and maybe (just maybe) cutting back on fried indulgences. I’ll still be me, though—no kale smoothies unless they come with a side of chips.

Three Professional Goals

1. Craft a Legacy of Peace and Self-Acceptance
   This one’s the biggie. I want to create an enterprise that feels like an oasis—a place where people can exhale, rediscover themselves, and walk away a little more whole. Workshops, one-on-one sessions, or maybe even a book—who knows?
2. Mentor and Nurture More
   I’m leaning into my role as a mentor, building a network where people feel seen, heard, and supported. It’s about creating a ripple effect of abundance and calmness in a world that often feels chaotic.
3. Weave Culture into Healing
   My Tulu background is a treasure chest of stories, rituals, and wisdom. This year, I want to bring that into my practice—maybe through storytelling events, cultural workshops, or just sneaking it into everyday conversations.

I release all what no longer serves me and step into my wisdom with clarity and calmness.

THE 2025 AFFIRMATION

Humor in the Shedding

Of course, the process of renewal isn’t all serene meditations and neatly decluttered drawers. Let’s be honest: there’s bound to be a moment where I regret letting go of something—like the time I threw out a perfectly good scarf because I thought it didn’t suit me, only to realize later it matched everything I owned.

And don’t even get me started on decluttering emotions. It’s a lot like sorting through old photos—half nostalgia, half cringing at questionable choices. But hey, that’s growth, right?

I also foresee plenty of opportunities to laugh at myself, whether it’s forgetting to water my hypothetical herb garden or misinterpreting a “snake omen” as a literal one and freaking out over a garden hose.

A Year of Transformation

2025 feels like a coiled spring—not in the tense, ready-to-snap way, but in the potential-energy kind of way. It’s a year to unwind gently, shedding what’s unnecessary, leaning into what feels authentic, and planting seeds for a brighter future.

So here’s to the year of the Wood Snake: deliberate, transformative, and maybe just a little sassy. May we all glide through it with wisdom, humor, and a touch of grace—and perhaps fewer unopened saffron packets in our cupboards.

This post is part of the #BlogchatterWrapParty hosted by Blogchatter.