Man, November 2024. Just thinking about it still gives me a bit of a shiver, you know? That whole year, it felt like things were just… churning. But November? That’s when it really hit. The rumors about “big changes” for us Pisceans, they weren’t just whispers anymore; they were practically shouting in my ear. I remember thinking, “Alright, if everyone’s talking about it, maybe I should actually pay attention for once.”
So, I started small. I mean, how do you even prepare for “big changes” when you don’t know what they are? I figured the best way was to just keep my eyes open, really pay attention to the little things that felt off or new. My usual routine? I tried to stick to it, but I also made myself be okay with things getting derailed. Every morning, I’d grab my coffee, sit by the window, and just… think. Not plan, not worry, just observe. What was different from yesterday? What felt the same?
Then, it started. Little nudges, you know? First, it was at work. We had this project, been dragging on for months. I was deep in it, trying to untangle a few knots. One afternoon, my boss just walked over, cool as a cucumber, and said, “Hey, we’re pulling the plug on that. Shifting gears completely.” My first thought was, “Wait, what? All that effort?” But honestly, a part of me felt this weird sense of relief. Like a heavy backpack I didn’t even realize I was carrying, just got taken off.
I distinctly remember feeling like I had to consciously lean into it. Not fight it. My usual self would have tried to find reasons to keep the old thing going, to argue for the status quo. But this time, it was different. I just nodded, asked, “Okay, what’s next?” And that felt… empowering, in a strange way. I cleared my desk, archived all the old project files, and prepped myself for whatever new thing was coming down the pipeline. It was a fresh slate, even if it meant a bit of uncertainty. Felt a bit like clearing out a dusty old attic – you hate doing it, but man, it feels good when it’s done.
Outside of work, things shifted too. My oldest friend, someone I’d known since we were kids, dropped a bomb on me. Said he was moving across the country, just decided, out of the blue. For years, we’d always joked about living in the same city, growing old and grumpy together. And then, poof, gone. My immediate reaction was a sting, a real pang of loss. I tried to talk him out of it, just for a second. But then I caught myself. “Big changes,” right? So, I swallowed hard, gave him the biggest hug, and told him to go for it. I promised to visit, of course. It sucked, for sure, but it also felt like a door opening, not closing. A new reason to travel, maybe.
I started noticing other Pisceans in my circle, too. Not that I was keeping a strict tally, but you know how it is, you hear things. One friend decided to completely revamp her living situation, sold her house, downsized to a tiny apartment she absolutely loved. Another just up and quit a job he hated, with no solid plan, just a gut feeling. Every single one of these stories, they all echoed that same theme: shedding the old, even if it was comfortable, for something new and maybe a little scary.
I even started doing some small things for myself. I’d been meaning to learn to bake bread for ages, never got around to it. Suddenly, in November, I just bought the ingredients, watched a few terrible YouTube videos, and just… started. My first loaf was a disaster, flat as a pancake, tasted like cardboard. But I didn’t care. I just kept at it. Each new loaf was a tiny change, a tiny step forward. It wasn’t about the perfect bread, it was about the act of trying something completely different, failing, and trying again.
Looking back, November 2024 wasn’t some catastrophic upheaval, not for me anyway. It was more like a series of gentle currents that subtly nudged me, and everyone else around me who resonated with that Pisces vibe, off the well-worn path. It taught me that sometimes, the biggest changes aren’t the ones you plan for, or even the ones you actively seek out. They’re the ones that just… arrive. And your job isn’t to fight them, or even fully understand them, but to just let them wash over you, and see where they take you. It was a time for letting go, for realigning, and for embracing the unknown with a bit of a hopeful shrug. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.
