What I Let Go Of In 2024 (So Far)
An image from the sacred land of the Mohicans in the Berkshire Mountains. © Maggie Battista 2024
This year, I may measure my becoming by how much I've let go.
Not by how much I did.
Not by how much I crossed off a list.
Not by how much I made.
And certainly not by how many men I dated. Because, just two.
Instead, I will measure my life by how much I was able to let go.
How I let go of other's expectations of me.
How I let go of big piles of stuff.
How I let go of trying so hard.
How I let go of my own expectations of myself.
Because, in letting go of all of these things, I became more of me.
In fact, I became the most me I've ever been.
And before I tell you all the things I let go of in 2024, I want to say thank you to the ancestors, my Healy, my mentor, my friends, and my soul for holding space for my becoming.
In 2024, I did the following:
The list is long so settle in with a cup of something.
— I stopped sharing a lot on Instagram. Sure, I go through phases where I push boundaries for my own learning—I'm a ⅓ Manifesting Generator, after all—but Instagram drains me more than feeds me.
— I released loving in reciprocity, whether platonic or romantic. This means, I've realized that others may not love the way I do and that's okay. Love is not about what I get from another; it's about how I give.
— I released having a big circle of friends. In my last life, I had so many friends but we weren't super close. Now I have a few deep friendships that feel ever-lasting.
— I let go of my home and life by the sea. Two years ago, I followed the soul's call to the ocean. But now, it's time to follow a call to live in a new land. More on that soon.
— I let go of my business dashboard that held hundreds of tasks. I mean, why? I designed a lighter one that guides me toward three or four soul desires. This is written at the top: “What is Love Asking of Me?”
— I released short-form content, at least, for a while. I returned to my roots of creating long form content and I remembered just how much I love writing. I returned to sharing via a blog—and that nourishes me.
— I released the concept of who I am and what I do. Sure, I'm a storyteller, soul mentor, entrepreneur, brand strategist, business coach, ceremonialist, founder… but does that really matter? I'm everything and nothing. I'm a channel for love and a channel for you.
And tbh:
This is a surprisingly comfortable realization.
It allows freedom to pursue all that lights me up.
And, you work with me bc of my energy, not my titles.
— I stopped evaluating new projects by how much they pay. I now evaluate projects by the love it fosters. That shift causes me to feel more abundant and I attract more abundance. Sweet souls, abundance is the cause, not the effect. Feel abundant and abundance follows.
— I let go of shame for prioritizing my healing over my work. My wholeness is my number one priority. And when I'm lying prone, icing my ankle, my soul is always weaving new worlds into existence. From a healed state, I'm able to design far more resonant work.
— I let go of judging my intuitive gifts. Yes, I hear the ancestors. Yes, I'm moving to a new place because I have a deep knowing about it. Yes, I see what will and has happened. Yes, I blend all that magic and soul with business. This makes me more me.
— And, I let go of needing to know how it all works out. Everything is working out, even when it doesn't seem to be. In fact, when it doesn't work out, something even better is coming. I trust that fully.
I am now taking the next step into soft living and soul-led work.
Because I value adventure over sameness.
Because I value growth over comfort.
Because I value love over fear.
At the same time, I want to have a lavish steady income consistent with integrity and mutual benefit. Btw, that's a spell. Say it three times daily. I'll share more on wealth energetics soon.
So I make good work and also make unconventional choices. But I do it to show you another possibility, to show you the sweetness of life that unfolds when you finally listen to your sweet soul.
