“I just have this really strong feeling that this cat is my mother.”


I’m going to talk about Stevie Nicks, again.  You’re welcome.  Heh.  She’s on my mind often of late.  I’m trying to wrap my mind around feeling so connected to someone I’ve never even met.  I’m leaning heavily on her persona because I’m struggling in life.  She’s become my most reliable source of strength in a way.  Thinking of her triggers a gentle nudge toward self-trust rather than doubt.

It feels like I’ve discovered an incredible life cartographer.  Only, it’s as if Stevie Nicks makes these beautifully illustrated maps that draw you in and hold your hand, as you travel through the often terrifying terrain.  It feels safe to trust her, knowing she’s already survived through areas I fear.

Usually, when I study fascinating people who rock my world, I use a standard approach;  I build a mental image of them based on what they share deliberately.  I do my best to sift out the bullshit by scrutinizing sources and skipping message boards and comment sections.  If an article reveals more about the author than the person interviewed, I surf away.

Lots of people seem to judge others by the content of their own character, rather than that of the person they’re supposedly observing.  I’m sure Dr. King would need a Stevie Nicks to endure the status quo too, were he still alive.  It’s just what I’m doing.  Enduring, rather than crawling (back) under a rock.

Studying Stevie Nicks is different.  It doesn’t feel like studying at all.  More like discovering.  She’s in plain sight to anyone not living under a rock, but she’s not at the same time.  There’s so much more if you pay attention.  If you seek more than what a casual fan uncovers, there are levels of Stevie Nicks’ persona, much like a video game.

Stevie Nicks concept art

The more time you spend observing, listening, and experiencing, the more you’re rewarded.  As a voracious reader of speculative fiction and fantasy novels, as well as a non-competitive gamer, it was natural for me to remain engrossed.  However, I’m still surprised by how intensely.  Better yet, I’m pleased.

Perhaps I’ve just never reached this level before, but the rewards are astonishing.  I’m at what feels like the most painful stage of my life.  The family members I was most anchored to have passed away.  My 25-year marriage ended in divorce when I was just beginning to emerge from beneath that rock.  There have been other mountains and valleys on my journey, but these have left me feeling like I’m stranded on an alien planet.

I’ve felt too loosely attached to this world in the aftermath, and I seek new anchors to comfort myself.  As I’m gradually tip-toeing deeper into a new long-term romantic relationship with my fiance, I’m startled by how loose my connection has grown.  It’s a little scary, sometimes.

I’ve known my Achille’s Heel since I was a child.  I have no tolerance for witnessing suffering.  It beats me up like it’s Mike Tyson right after I insulted his mother.  Deep down, I know there’s no point in getting back up.  I’m amazed I’ve lived this long.  I never allowed myself to even consider the possibility of living past age 40.  It was unfathomable.  Now I’m starting to believe I might even still be kicking it at age 50. (!!!)  My Achille’s Heel is outside of my control and my only defense used to be living under a rock.

It’s too soon to say whether I’m glad I sought a less isolated path.  I’m too invested to be impartial.  I just know I’m happier and it’s harder to knock me out.  I owe much of this phenomenon to spending time experiencing what Stevie Nicks shares.  Just in case you decide to pay attention as well, I’ll give you a hint.  Seek her with your intuition, and don’t waste time trying to analyze her like a shrink.  It’s a distraction (for those who habitually choose the easiest path.) I suspect it’s deliberate, which you have to admit is hella cool.  💜

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