tender, budding, vulnerable, new
in celebration of my book launch + birthday
I sat in the sun today, wearing shorts and feeling the warmth of springtime on my skin.
The liminality of this time of year is palpable. The mornings and evenings are still cool enough to require covered toes and long-sleeves, but the brightness of daytime beckons us outdoors, skin-exposed, ready for sunshine.
I’ve been watching closely as the daffodil bulbs I planted last fall find their way, growing tall as they break up through the pine mulch blanketing their bed. I’ve been walking through my flower garden, looking and waiting for new buds to open in their own time. I’ve been dreaming of veggie gardens and baby chicks, and thinking through ways to protect our growing things from our rambunctious dogs’ carefree, but at times destructive, play time. My mind’s eye has been fully oriented towards springtime and the fresh, tender beginnings new seasons often bring.
As I welcome this change in weather, I find myself celebrating achievements and lamenting disappointments all at once. Today, my newest book, A More Beautiful Way to Live, is officially out it the world. I’m so proud of it. I poured more of myself into the project than I thought I would. Now she’s here. Complete and real and waiting for readers. My hope is that this book will find the anxious, tired, and weary ones and meet them with insights and practices that bring connection, healing, and some measure of peace. If that sounds like you, you can buy your copy here and and check out a few of my upcoming online events below.
Today is also the eve of my 36th birthday! I’m so conflicted as I cross this threshold. On the one hand, I’m grateful for getting older. To be alive is a blessing, and my life is filled with goodness, creativity, and true love. I’m grateful. But on the other hand, I’m beginning to fear the future that isn’t shaping up like I thought it would. I had this vision for my life, these expectations about what my 30s, and soon-to-be 40s, would hold. Now I find myself thrust into the unexpected and painful labor of making peace with an existence that is so very different from the picture I had in mind.
I write in A More Beautiful Way to Live that one of the defining characteristics of embodying this “more beautiful way” in the world is the ability to accept and receive one’s life as it is, as its been given. This is important because so much of the stress and strain we experience comes from resisting the hard things that come our way. In resisting the pain, suffering, and disappointment, we find ourselves striving, numbed out, or overworking, all in an effort to force our preferred version of reality into existence. In my experience, even when this forcing “works out”, there’s almost always a cost to one’s health or relationships. Not always, but often. Learning to accept and receive our lives as they’ve been given may sound like resignation, but it’s not. Accepting and receiving our lives as they unfold is about surrender and trust, allowing even the painful parts of our stories to bring forth the medicine our soul’s need most.
I’m in the practice of this even now, as I hold these rich gifts (a new book, a new birthday!) right alongside the sadness I feel about dreams not yet fulfilled. There is purpose, I think, in this in-between place. There is a special grace, a dispense of divine presence, right here in the liminality of life’s beauties and life’s losses.
It’s been tempting for me, over the years, to imagine “a more beautiful way to live” as a sort of escape from reality. Lord knows there’s so much pain and anguish I’d like to flee from. But escaping is not what a more beautiful way is about. The invitation of any real contemplative practice is to build one’s capacity to face reality head on, no matter how challenging such a confrontation may be.
My aim over the coming days and weeks is to go gently and to celebrate as fully as I’m able. I’m looking forward to online conversations with dear friends about my new book. I’m waiting patiently to see if and how this book lands in your lives. It all feels very…Spring-like. Tender, budding, vulnerable, new.
I pray that you, too, are able to go gently into the coming days and weeks, no matter what comes your way.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading. I hope to connect with you soon.
Bethaney
Upcoming Online & Book Launch Events
Substack Live with Kaitlin Curtice
March 3rd - 4:00 PM EST
Author and poet Kaitlin Curtice will be hosting me for a Substack Live conversation about themes of slowness, ritual, and beauty. Join us!
Substack Live with Beth Silvers
March 4th - 10:00 AM EST
Author and co-host of Pantsuit Politics, Beth Silvers, and I share a birthday, March 4th! In celebration, we’ll be having a Substack Live conversation about my new book. Come hang with us.
Tender Starts: A Mini-Retreat with Krissy Kludt
March 19th - 7:00 PM EST
In-keeping with the rhythms of the natural world, poet Krissy Kludt and I will be hosting an online contemplative event on the themes of tender, new beginnings. It’s called “Tender Starts.” It’s a free event featuring poetry, meditation, journal prompts and gentle invitations to connect with likeminded folks.
