I wanted to send my post out this morning at 11:11, but I needed a little more time. So here it is at 12:31, apropos for New Year’s Eve, and also today’s message, about numbers, and about legacies.
I have always had unique and particular feelings about different things: numbers, words, colors, dates, days of the week, months of the year. It’s that intuitive feeling evoked by thinking about or looking at each one. You discover which ones are your favorites, which bring out the feelings you prefer. From there, we can build on those feelings, find and make new meaning, connections, uncover new associations and build on the foundation of the relationship just as anything else. It can be so fun, inspiring, or like a special and secret power to tap into at any time. It’s the reason we choose our passwords, why a lot of athletes pick their uniform numbers, or certain ones are cherished by different cultures. Some people have lucky numbers, follow angel numbers and numerology, ancient meanings and beliefs, so many different things to draw from.
As someone who is a bit extra sensitive to the associations that come from memories and experiences, when I have a strange or uncomfortable feeling about a number or word, or anything really, I have tended to avoid it or push it away intentionally, especially when I was younger. Now things are different, and I try my best to see each and any of these uncomfortable things as a teacher. I try to use tools of navigation to work through a yucky feeling or association, even if sometimes that can be tough.
When I am in an open minded and grounded state, if there is something that isn’t sitting well for me, I take a pause and ask myself why that is, explore the reasoning behind it, and sometimes find that some work needs to be done to dismantle an uncomfortable association. Sometimes to reimagine my relationship completely with that number or thing, to make new meaning, to begin anew and start afresh. Avoiding things can be a temporary solution, a survival mechanism, but the real tough self work is looking the problem in the eye and cracking it open, the part that can be so difficult, painful and tedious, and takes time and patience. The healing and change doesn’t happen instantly, but it is more sustainable in the long run.
I have different feelings about different numbers - the ones I like, the ones I prefer. Favorite numbers, ones that sit well and feel right. Sometimes, every now and then, a number will evoke a strange feeling and I have to figure out why. It happened when I turned 35, and I knew that one was coming because I already didn’t like the number 35, and I realized just yesterday morning, that I didn’t have a completely nice feeling when thinking about the number 24. I wasn’t too happy about that because we are entering into the year 2024, and I have been feeling very good and strong about it because it’s the year of the Wood Dragon, and I want to bring positive and powerful energy into this new year transition. So I decided to take a little time to explore my own association with 24.
It took about 5 seconds to realize where that yucky feeling stemmed from and when it began. It wasn’t something abstract and energetic, but a tangible and specific memory, a fixed and particular association with the number 24 that gave me an uncomfortable feeling. I felt a little upset at first, and then realized that this is actually a gift arriving at the perfect moment. It is an amazing opportunity to grow, and to bring this growth forward into the new year. Today I can re-imagine my relationship to the number 24, learn from this uncomfortable feeling and what it represents, realizing it is there for me as anything else, as a teacher, something to crack open, look at, and listen to. There is so much energy to release there, to let go of, to be freed from, to leave behind as we move forward. And this practice can be applied to any similar problem, complicated or simple.
This metaphor of practice arrives at a perfect moment, as we leave this year and move into a new one, and I invite you to join me in this exercise of letting go and reimagining. Is there anything you want to leave behind as we step into a new year? Do you have a relationship with anything or anyone that you’d ike to reimagine in a new way?
Sometimes I have trouble with breaking associations, and in the past I would wish I could delete parts of my memory bank, to be freed from uncomfortable memories that are immediately conjured up when seeing a particular object or detail connected with it. It’s something that I find particularly fascinating because of its complexity and power. It’s also something that I now am thankful for, because there is always something we can learn from and uncover in ourselves when something brings us discomfort, and there is always a part of ourselves we can reconnect with, an energy that we can reclaim, take back. Sometimes for me, it’s simply about acceptance, realizing that though I might always associate a particular thing with something else, that it’s really okay, and everything will be alright. And it is also so important to remember that while some associations can feel uncomfortable or upsetting, the workings of the mind are also an incredible blessing. That power of associative memory also allows us to so quickly access all of the warmhearted, beautiful, and inspiring reminders that bring the gifts of nostalgia, joy, and comfort. The seamless channels of pure memory that I cherish with all of my being.
So yesterday I spent some time going into the uncomfortable associations and memories I had connected with the number 24, bringing in feelings of forgiveness, letting myself feel a little bit angry and hurt, and allowing a little space to process it all and to eventually let these things go. It’s unavoidable that we’re going to have uncomfortable memories from the past, and there might be times that we don’t like thinking about, whether it’s specific traumatic moments or batches of years when life felt strange. We can’t erase them from our memory completely, even if sometimes we really wish we could, but we can always continue our process of healing, of sharing and connecting with trusted friends and helpers, to recognize how we’ve grown and evolved, and to relinquish the power these things can have over us. Sometimes we will have rough patches of course, more difficult days, times of sorrow and discomfort, and of needing more support from others. Life does continue forward, with new possibilities awaiting us, and there is always a promise for brighter and more joyful days ahead.
So after I had done a little reflection and self work, I took a moment to think about what else 24 represents, and my association started to shift. 24. The hours in a day. The hours in a day! Christmas Eve. The number of major and minor keys in Western music. I thought about the song, 4+20 by Crosby, Stills, and Nash, with the opening line, ‘4 and 20 years ago, I come into this life.’ Deja Vu was my favorite album when I was 15, and I would play that song on piano and sing it when I was 24, thinking about Stephen Stills singing it when he was 24. I thought about when I was 24 myself, what I was doing then, what I was discovering and experiencing in my own life. I thought about how it feels to be 24, what that time of life looks like and represents for us all.
Then I googled the numbers 24 and 2024 to see what came up, and here are some of the different words I found from the search results:
2024 is considered an “8 year” in numerology (two plus two plus four equals eight), a powerful number representing abundance, balance, and success.
Angel number 2024 represents you stepping into your personal power, your faith, and using your unique talents with confidence in a new period of spiritual growth. When this number appears in your life, it's the perfect time to analyze any situation you're in and apply your skills to take you to the next level.
The number 24 is about aligning your heart with your actions, finding a sense of balance and peace, and enjoying the beauty of life. It's a hugely spiritual number and one that encourages high vibrations, awareness, and trust in the beautiful journey ahead.
In the intricate tapestry of Hinduism, numbers weave intricate stories. Number 24 holds a special place, symbolizing a balance between material pursuits and spiritual aspirations.
24 encourages you to be open to change and to believe that the universe is working in your favor. You might be feeling out of control or overwhelmed, but your angels are telling you it’s time to take a leap of faith and trust the process.
Perhaps the most important message of the 24 angel number is that it is never too late to start again. No matter how many setbacks or failures you might have experienced in the past, this number reminds you that there is always room for new beginnings, fresh starts, and endless possibilities. Whether it’s a new career path, an exciting relationship, or simply feeling more content with life as it is now, the number can point you in the right direction. By being open to the messages from the universe, you can embrace whatever new beginnings come your way with excitement and positivity.
With this number, your angels are urging you to put your faith in yourself and trust that something extraordinary will await you on the other side. Keep an open mind, stay positive, and be ready for a new chapter in your life.
And here some words about the Wood Dragon, though the lunar new year isn’t until February 10:
The Wood Dragon year 2024, when combined with the nourishing Wood element, will bring evolution, improvement, and abundance; it is the perfect time for rejuvenated beginnings and setting the foundation for long-term success.
These are all such beautiful and powerful messages, comforting and enlightening words to carry into this new year ahead. As I read all of these ideas and thought about new associations, I kept going back to two things: the hours in a day and the number of major and minor keys in western music. Those two ideas represent one very powerful thing to me: possibilities. There are 24 hours in a day, 24 hours of chances to do new things, to have incredible experiences, to be kind and to grow and learn. And looking at my piano right now, thinking about all of those major and minor keys, there lies an abundance of possibility, of opportunity, to create and explore, to write new music, new songs. There is so much there. So that for me is the idea I will be bringing into the year 2024. It is a year of new possibilities, new chances, new opportunities, and new beginnings.
I never had intended to write this Substack post about numbers and associations, and that aligns completely with this theme: the unexpected magic that comes from following a surprising path and diving in, being open, taking a chance, even a small one. We never know where one thought, feeling, or idea will bring us. There is always a chance for something new and unexpected.
What I had originally intended to write about for this New Years Eve post, was my own association for this date, 12/31. My relationship with New Year’s Eve has had significant changes over the years. Throughout my older childhood, teen years, and twenties, my mom and her band had performed for 3 nights in NYC: December 29, December 30 (my mom’s birthday), and New Year’s Eve. So I had spent NYE each year at her concert, with our band family and our friends, counting down to midnight together onstage, the confetti and balloons dropping from the ceiling, and passing out little cups of champagne to the audience in collective and joyful celebration. Hugging all of the bandmates and our friends while singing Auld Lang Syne, and watching the band play the rest of their set, entering the new year with this new power. I had never had to find something to do on New Year’s Eve, go to a party, find a date. It wasn’t part of my life. I always knew where I would be on those days and who I would be spending it with.
Some years ago, they dropped the NYE show from the calendar, doing only December 29 and 30, and suddenly I found myself in my 30’s, having to figure out how adults celebrated this annual holiday. Each year since then has been a little different, and I’ve had some very special experiences. Maybe with one friend, writing our wishes and hopes for the year ahead and tossing them into the sea at midnight. Watching a movie with my mom and falling asleep before the ball drops. Or ending up in a neighborhood dive bar, singing songs with strangers and wearing funny hats. It’s been a time of discovering new rituals and traditions, and lots of opportunity for self reflection and imagining the future ahead.
In 2019, on New Year’s Eve day, I released my first solo single on Bandcamp, as a fundraiser for Pathway to Paris. Writing the lyrics, I was imagining the year ahead, 2020, and imagining us all entering into a new decade, a new chance for change. The press release read: This first song, written and performed by Jesse Paris Smith, also serves as her first ever solo release. Recorded at Electric Lady Studios in NYC on December 20th, the 8 minute track serves as a clarion call for contemplation and self reflection, to look at our actions from the past decade, and a call to action to shift our consciousness in this new year, in this decade ahead.
When I read this now, my eyes well up with tears, because I couldn’t have ever imagined back then what lay ahead. As soon as 2020 began, the Covid crisis took hold over the world, masses of people lost their lives and loved ones. The country and the world struggled between this strange unification and massively polarizing disagreement and fighting. New war began, and there seemed to be more of a presence of fear than ever before.
Reading the lyrics of the song each year since I wrote and released them, they have seemed to become more heartbreakingly relevant every year. Maybe I was being naively optimistic, but I truly believed that everything was about to change. That entering 2020, this new decade, we would experience a complete shift of humanity, discovering solutions for all of our most urgent problems, and working together to implement them into strong and ambitious action.
Yet here we are, entering 2024, and we seem to have more problems than ever. It breaks my heart so deeply, and it also desperately encourages me to not let go of hope, to keep that light alive. New wars have started, destruction and hate have permeated and continued, and fear continues to have a stronghold on the world. Though alongside that, positive movements have grown stronger, people have not given up. There are so many people all over the world doing incredible things, staying powerful and strong in their beliefs, and keeping hope alive. It is so beautiful, and we have a responsibility to each other to continue to listen and collaborate, to work together to move closer and more urgently towards the existence that we truly want, and that we truly believe is possible in this lifetime together.
Any song could have been my first debut, and I’m happy it’s this one because of the lyrics and the feeling, and because it has become part of my New Years Eve. Since I released it NYE 2019, listening to the mix and master that day, over and over, making sure it was ready for release, it became solidified in my memory and molecules as my New Year’s Eve ritual, reflecting on how we, the world, have lived in this year, and what we can change moving forward into the next.
The song is exactly 8 minutes long, and of course the number 8 holds a strong and significant meaning.
In Pythagorean numerology, the number 8 represents victory, prosperity and overcoming. Eight (八, hachi, ya) is also considered a lucky number in Japan. Eight gives an idea of growing because the letter (八) broadens gradually.
The 8 represents infinity, infinite possibilities, infinite opportunity for something new and different.
I would like to share the song for you here, and if you like, you can listen today and tonight with me, and maybe think about the lyrics, about the world, about your own life, your own existence, and most of all, your own possibilities, opportunities, everything that is waiting for you in 2024.
Press release from December 2019:
The song opens with a short audio clip of words from Carl Sagan, the American astronomer who died in 1996, reminding us of our responsibility to Earth and the cosmos above.
The lyrics carry a similar request, exploring themes such as climate disaster, consumption, greed and power, and the warning of the possibility of human extinction. The line at the end of the track from which the title comes says, ‘No one will remember us, cause legacies mean nothing to birds in the sky.’ But among the track as well as a warning, is an idea of hope, of one last chance for our collective energy to save us. So there is still a thread of optimism and brightness amongst the dark shadows.
“Of course I am concerned every single day with the looming disaster of the climate emergency, and this is where our focus and energy are in our work with everything we do. But on one particular day, I was thinking a lot about students and the school shootings. I went onto Wikipedia and searched for the history of school shootings in America. There was a list of all of them, dating back to the 19th century. I sat at the kitchen table and read every single one, from 1840 all the way to now. There were so many, so many names, so many forgotten souls, so many terrible stories. It was so sad and gut wrenching and I sat at the table in tears. Then I went into my bedroom with my ukulele and wrote this song. There is a line that says ‘one should have been more than enough,’ and that is the line that is the most about the shootings. The whole thing is really just about the general idea of observing our behavior as individuals and collectively. Other parts of the song are about climate disaster, and can be metaphors for other subjects and issues, too. Consumption, loss of connection, lack of love, war, greed, destruction, family separation, social media, fame, etc. Everything is connected, all of the issues, and all of us. It is time now for real shift in our consciousness and in our actions, and I truly hope and I do truly, really believe that 2020 and this new decade will bring about this major shift that we so desperately need. I mean we have to. This is our last chance for it.” - Jesse Paris Smith
List of School Shootings in the US
The cover art is a painting by Michael Kerbow called Ultima Thule. I wanted to find a piece of artwork that blended this feeling of expansive nature with the destruction of mankind, in a way that evoked both a strange and slightly scary apocalyptic feeling, with this sense of stillness and peace. A strange hope. I searched and searched, looking at anything from video game backgrounds to paintings of creatures and monster-like-beings arising from swamps and forest floors. I searched for days, delving for hours into the deepest and strangest rabbit holes, and then I somehow came across Michael Kerbow, and not only was this exact painting the perfect choice for what I was hoping for, but all of his work deeply inspired and pushed me forward. I contacted him, and he so generously agreed to allow me to use his painting for the cover art. I have never met him in person, and I hope someday to meet him, see his studio, and learn more about his process and inspiration. His website says:
‘For over twenty years I have created artwork that examines the underlying forces that drive our industrialized society. I am intrigued by what motivates our collective pursuits, and how our actions may affect our future viability. I seek to question the rationale behind our choices as a society, and try to reveal the dichotomy that may exist between what we desire, and what we in turn manifest.’
You can find his work here:
I asked my mom to write my name and the song title, and she did so in the most beautiful way that aligns so beautifully with everything, lifting is all so gracefully into that space of strength and hope. I didn’t know at first what to call the song, and looking at the lyrics, thinking about the meaning, we decided on, ‘Legacies.’ It said everything in one simple word. It comes from the line, ‘No one will remember us, cause legacies mean nothing to birds in the sky.’
I recorded the song on December 20 at Electric Lady Studios, upstairs in Studio D. I remember feeling this urgency that day. I can access the feeling I had so quickly. I don’t particularly like recording in the studio because I get a little bit self conscious, and I remember feeling this urgent focus and vision and just being able to forget about any feelings of discomfort around recording, and just wanting to get this work done. I haven’t finished my album or recorded the rest of my songs as I expected to do in 2020, and I think I will make it a strong priority for 2024, and I will do my very best to access that same focus and strength I had on December 20, 2019, when I knew what I wanted to do, and nothing was going to stand in my way until the song was completed.
Is there something you would like to do in 2024? Do you have a project that has been on hold for a while? Maybe we can all think of something we would like to do, and help each other to achieve our goal, keep each other accountable, and inspire each other forward. That would be nice. 🙂
In the years that have followed, I’ve had the chance to perform live a handful of times, and I have learned such a great deal from those experiences. I started playing music with my friend Alana Amram, who I recorded another song with at Electric Lady, actually recorded before this one, but never released. We had a very unique and life changing experience on my birthday (June 27) in 2022, and we actually played this very song in Florence at the Uffizi, under Michelangelo’s David statue. My mom had a concert there that was supposed to be outside, and they moved us indoors, in front of the real statue, on this hallowed ground of art and creation. Alana and I were supposed to have opened for the band, but as the situation had changed, the concert was changed to a shorter format. So we chose one song to play, this one. Singing these words in that space was like being in the most calmed, warm waters, contained and held by this sacred energy, each word floating into the ether space and settling softly there. It was a truly magical, incredible, life altering birthday gift that I would never imagine to take for granted, and always hold strong in my body and heart.
Following my birthday, on July 8, 2022, Alana and I also played a full concert together in Concord, Massachusetts for the Thoreau Society Annual Gathering. I wanted to share with you the recording of Legacies from that concert, recorded by our dear friend Adam Schanke. I am so thankful to have a recording of this event, as it was my first concert, the first full show of my own music.
It has a slightly different energy than the studio recording, with Alana on electric bass and harmonies near the end. If you have a moment to listen, I would love to hear your thoughts, maybe on which version resonated with you more, which you prefer. Imagining to record my whole album in 2024, maybe I will re-record Legacies again in a new way, or maybe I will use this studio version from 2019. I welcome your feedback, and am so thankful for any thoughts you might have. That recording is at the bottom of this page.
So here we are, it is New Year’s Eve. 2024 is on the horizon, a chance for new possibilities, new life, new love, new work. I am so deeply thankful to be moving into this new chapter with you all, with this new format and platform of Substack, this opportunity for community, for connection, sharing, and growing together. As always, please share any of your own ideas and thoughts with me. I would love to read them. I am wishing you all the most beautiful love, strong power, and love ahead. I am wishing you hope.
Happy New Year.
Legacies
From underneath the surface of the sea, what do you see?
From underneath the surface of the sea, what do you see?
From underneath the surface of the sea, what do you see?
From underneath the surface of the sea, what do you see?
I see a hand pressed to glass in the sky
but an ocean divides the stars from the night
is there a bridge, is there a boat, is there a wall, oh, I don’t know
how I wish you would turn and say goodnight
now it’s deep in the darkest hour of the loneliest century
had to tear ourselves away and fall into the sea
we can still hear the bodies shifting in the walls
as they breathe or sleep
but they wanted to paint a masterpiece
someday maybe soon
we will sleep again
but it’s hard to imagine now
did you notice how everything’s shifting when the eagle’s cracked?
when we close our eyes we can almost get that golden feeling back
to see our dreams alive as they were
to see an eagle fly across our hand
but then we open our eyes and the chilling storm
frightens our bones to their very core
and I find each day as we slip away more
that the world resembles a spider web
yes, a spider web is strong
surviving through the greatest storms
though it’s scary because
most of the things that it catches will die
someday maybe soon
we will sleep once more
though it’s hard to imagine now
From underneath the pile of rubble, what do you see?
From underneath the pile of rubble, what do you see?
From underneath the pile of rubble, what do you see?
From underneath the pile of rubble, what do you see?
I see a body twisting, trying to speak
and the dark cloud surrounding their lungs
carries them away to the sea
then a building of gold collapses from right underneath
with nothing to ground in catastrophe
now it’s deep in the final year of this old decade
had to build an armor of wings and try to fly away
one should have been more than enough
but now that so much has been lost
and now that we’ve all had our time in the sun
can we open our eyes to the chilling storm
that frightens our souls to their very core?
can we see each day as see slip away more
that this world will be resembling an old cobweb?
bodies blow away in the dust
memories with no place to exist
no one will remember us
cause legacies mean nothing to the birds in the sky.
climb up to the top of the trees and tell me, what do you see?
climb up to the top of the trees and tell me, what do you see?
climb up to the top of the trees and tell me, what do you see?
climb up to the top of the trees and tell me, what do you see?
Lyrics by Jesse Paris Smith
Released December 31, 2019
Music and Lyrics by Jesse Paris Smith
Vocals and Ukulele: Jesse Paris Smith
Synthesizer: Eric Hoegemeyer
Recorded at Electric Lady Studios
Mixed by Eric Hoegemeyer
Mastered by Jim Kissling
Cover art is ‘Ultima Thule’ by Michael Kerbow
Cover design by Michael Kerbow
Cover handwriting by Patti Smith