*Reflections at 40*
*Growth, Grace, and the Practice of Letting Go*

*Written by Mini McCabe*

July is the heart of the entire year. The 7th sacred month, a smidge past half way. The sun lingering longer, everything stretched wide open, ready for the taking. She is our long awaited getaway, sun-kissing our shoulders, rocking us tenderly to the lakeside rhythms. The mornings - golden and humid - and by dusk, we’re left marinated in sand and sunscreen. Summer break babies running wild through sprinklers, packing weekender bags, iced coffee cup rings on the table, and, what day of the week is it again?. We wish she could stay with us, forever, just this way.

And this month, sweet July, I welcome in 40 years.

Milestones bring a natural pause. A moment right as the page turns to reflect, to shed, to cleanse, to welcome. Turning 40 has felt less like a bold line in the sand and more like a gentle unfolding. My 30’s, as Glennon Doyle would say, were brutiful. Equal parts beautiful and brutal. I feel each brutiful moment, like tiny pin pricks against my own beating heart: the loss, the heartache, the evolution, the truth, the unraveling, the becoming, and everything in between. I painstakingly learned the very holy practice of letting go and letting in - over, and over, and over again.

Maybe the idea of letting go can feel clichè or dramatic. Easier said than done, Mini. But it doesn’t have to be overcomplicated. Sometimes it’s simply softening the grip.

Softening to contentment, forgiveness, alignment.

Softening to discomfort, rewiring, evolving.

Softening to the power of a yes, the gentle whisper of a no.

Softening to your pain’s purpose, your trauma’s truth.

Softening to a new calling, new light, new direction.

The softening. The releasing. The letting go. Again, again, again.

And when we let go? We create space. Blessed space. It brings air to our lungs, and blood to our veins. The space allows the letting in. Letting in stillness, joy, deep connection, awareness, reflection, purpose, reconfiguration, peace, ease, healing, and versions of ourselves we haven’t yet met, but that have been patiently waiting for us to arrive.

Every damn day I get up and practice the letting go. Like one exhaustive exhale running straight from my lungs - I let it all out: the grasp, the control, the anger, the unfairness, the injustice, the uncertainty, the judgement, the love hustle, the unworthiness. A daily ritual, a whispered prayer to my inner child and this 40 year old version of myself, standing right here and now. We blow it a kiss goodbye each morning, vowing to stay within myself, undistracted by the world's ways - and by nightfall, they’re back, gently knocking at my chest.

Again, again, and again. The letting go.

I’ve come to realize my life’s work will always be this - standing knee deep in the shores of the letting go. We can’t run from our stories, but we can hold them close and ask what is begging to be seen. We can keep our palms unfurled, heart space open, ready to receive. Allowing the letting in to heal and hold you. It’s not always fireworks—but a steady flame.

One of the most beautiful lessons this practice offers is that we are never finished, we are always becoming. Every inhale is a chance to begin again. Every exhale releases what no longer serves us. Every time we return to our mat, we return to ourselves. And every season of life brings a new invitation to evolve. To fall deeper in love with ourselves. To stay devoted to the same team, you+you.

At 40, I’m not striving to be a new me. I’m learning to meet myself with compassion and less critique. To hold all the versions of who I’ve ever been with tender grace. To choose myself, over and over again. In this new decade, we don’t betray ourselves, we stand boldly in our boundaries and power.

So here’s to you, sweet July. To growth that feels like softness. To letting go, and letting in. To seeing 40 not as a finish line, but as a beautiful doorway I so graciously get to walk through. Hand in hand with myself.

And to each of us—becoming more ourselves, one breath, one let go - let in, at a time.

Shauna Niequist writes,

And so, whatever these days hold for you: feel it, all of it.

Let it work through your life like yeast through dough,

Transforming you, delivering you to a new reality, even if it's not one you chose. This is how it is, for all of us: loving something, letting go, beginning again, letting go again, again, again.

Grieve what’s gone.

Inch towards what’s new.

Cry.

Let go.

Hope.

Sometimes all in the same day.

Sometimes all in the same breath.

What might your daily letting go ritual look like to you?

Is there a milestone in your life that is asking for you to reflect and receive?

Can you name seven areas in your life that need softening attention? Write them down, carry them in your heart, share with your closest friend – come back to them on August 1 and see how you’ve progressed.

Write down one affirmation for this month, pop it on a sticky note on your mirror, return to it again, and again, and again. Let it rewire you. Mine says: you’ve come this far, keep going. Share yours with us: @discover.thespace @minimccabe