How an Ex Party Girl Rings in the New Year
It's no secret that you'll find me curled up at home on New Year's Eve with a cup of tea and a journal in hand, probably shutting my eyes at some point before the clock strikes midnight (otherwise, you know, I turn into a pumpkin or something). Not that the allure of sparkly pants, party hats and loud noises doesn't seem a little sexy to me, it's just that I'm taking festive to a totally different level and creating my very own new years rituals – sans party horns.
This year I'm celebrating my 6th year at home for New Year's Eve (and considering I'm still in my twenties, this seems like quite the accomplishment for this ex party gal). Some years I spend solo, others I gather with likeminded women and close out the year with group intentions (one year we had a cacao ceremony!). The theme remains the same: to infuse the last moments of my year with power and meaning.
When I quit drinking 5+ years ago, I didn't set out to be a party pooper. In fact, this tradition started with a glass of white wine in hand. I remember sitting on my wrap-around porch in the treetops after sundown on New Years Eve, soaking in the nature around me and feeling immense gratitude for the softness of it all. That year I opted out of rowdy social gatherings and traded in my party dress for a quiet night under the stars.
Although people now know me now as a clean living, wholesome ass (but still swears a lot) yogi and self help junkie, trust me guys, I know how to party. I think it's those of us who came from a wilder background that need the change of scenery the most. I used to have a major case of the FOMO. I think part of the reason why I would drink too much – you know, besides the fact that addiction is in my blood – is because I was constantly craving something bigger, better, more exciting. No matter how many people were around or how late the night went, I always wanted something more.
After years and years of "always wanting something more" it finally hit me that what I was searching for might not fucking exist. I drank all the drinks, lived in all the places, danced on all the rooftops, made out with all the mysterious men, stayed up through all the sunrises. Yet, the hole inside me was always there.
The new year is an impactful time for me, not because it's trendy to set goals, but because it's the one time a year the world makes an extra special effort to go deeper. Going deep is where it's at, y'all. Present day Kalyn can be found tuning in, turning on and yogi-ing out any day of the year, but I continue the practice of quieting down and turning inward around the new year because it sets the tone for the months to come.
What better way to welcome the twelve months ahead by ringing in the new year as your best self. You won't find me spilling drinks on people's shoes (a skill I had mastered) or waking up at noon with a headache that makes you want to pull the shades down on life. You'll find the best version of me springing out of bed at sunrise, greeting the day with explosive enthusiasm, eager to live better, show up bigger and make the most impact.