Contributing Author: Bethany Colley
Yesterday, my sister asked if I would write a guest essay for her inaugural Monthly Lift newsletter. I was—and still am—actively flattered, because I consider Shannon a wizard with words and truly the best writer I have ever known in real life. So being given this space to share my voice is giving me all the feels.
I said yes before asking when she would need the essay completed—which, if you know me, is very on brand. I am 37 years old and still have not learned how to harness my excitement. At this point, I’m not sure I ever will, and maybe that’s a good thing.
Anyway, about 30 minutes ago I received a text from Shannon saying she wanted to send her newsletter out today. So… hi, reader. 🙂
It is January 24th.
January is a lot of things, but mostly—at least in Western culture—it’s a month that represents beginnings of all kinds.
Beginnings remind me of the honeymoon phase of a relationship: exciting, fresh, seething with hope, and maybe even a little bit sexy.
As we all know, the honeymoon phase doesn’t last forever. Eventually, what feels new and fresh starts to become familiar, and what once felt like hope can start to feel a little mundane.
As a hopeless romantic and a stubborn problem-solver, I think the remedy is not just to begin—but to begin
again,
and again,
and again.
For me, this looks like paying attention:
To the way the clouds look in the sky on a clear day.
To the way my partner’s dimples appear when she smiles with her whole being.
To the way the new mamas I support as a postpartum doula navigate intense transitions while still pouring every ounce of love they have into their babies.
To the way my body feels when I’m in a room full of laughter.
I say all of this to say that if your beginning is starting to feel a little dull or morose, you don’t have to force yourself to feel inspired or shiny about it. You can simply let it be what it is—and then begin again.
