Who’s Behind BHT?

Beth
Dallas, Texas, United States

We all have turning points in our lives, times that define us and as previous generations used to say, “let us know what we’re made of.”

I’ve had several such points in my life and the most recent one birthed the blog you’re reading.  Before I tell you how it came to “B”, however, let me tell you how I hope you’ll benefit from your reading.

What’s in it for you?

It’s a fair question because if you spend as much time here as I hope you do and if you tell all your friends about the site (as I hope you do!), then I want to represent you well.

So here’s the elevator pitch:  B Here Today is meant to draw a balance between the world as it is—helping us accept what is happening “out there”—by learning how to be at peace with “in here.”  I believe that when we see the wonder in the minutiae of our days and find gratitude in everyday happenings, we feel a sense of connection to creation, from the environment and landscape, to the animals (even bugs—be sure and read “Bug Lesson”) and our fellow two-legged beings.

Here’s my promise to you in 14 words:  B Here Today will touch your heart and connect it with other spiritual seekers.

If I’m wrong, all you’ll lose is about 10 minutes of the 1,440 minutes in your day.

Ready to give it a try?

Fabulous.  Grab a bucket of popcorn, your favorite beverage and get comfortable.

Mid-year 2009, this question popped into my mind: Do you want to die in the same state where you were born?

You may have asked yourself the same question or a similar one.  You know, those scary, potentially life-altering questions that you subconsciously avoid until the day arrives when you realize you’re in a significant amount of emotional pain?

I was in a crisis period in my life, seriously questioning my values, my day-to-day living structure and my overall place in the universe.  I was restless, bored and uncertain about whether I wanted to continue my life as it was.

Can you relate?

It seemed that nearly the same instant that these thoughts became conscious ones, circumstances appeared that presented an opportunity to make a MAJOR change.  I threw all caution to the wind, and with only a couple of weeks notice to family and friends, moved to Texas. (I do not recommend this kind of departure!)

Not having lived anywhere besides Missouri, I had a tough time going through the process of changing my residency. I had no experience, having been born and raised in the Show-Me state. Like so many bureaucratic endeavors, there seemed to be an endless array of steps to inspect my car, buy four new tires (before the inspection could be certified, and what is $600 additional bucks at that point?), register my car, obtain a driver’s license, obtain a license plate, pay all the fees, register to vote, and on and on.

The project was daunting and was made more so by my mile-wide stubborn streak, not to mention the way it punched all my trigger buttons of patience, relying on others, doing things in order, (the list goes on).

I did not want to let loose of my Missouri driver license or my personalized vehicle plate.  In fact, I waited more than six months to apply for my Texas driver license until I realized I was two weeks from my birthday and my Missouri license would expire.  Yikes!

I was visiting my folks in Missouri around that time and having a bemoaning conversation about all the steps it takes to move to a new state.  Dad said, “While you’re here, why don’t you just go renew your Missouri license?  Then when your license plate is due, you can come back here and renew it as well.  You wouldn’t have to lose your SURNDR plate.”   (I really loved that personalized “vanity” plate).

What a great and simple idea!  I loved my dad for giving me such an easy answer.  But was it the right answer?  I took that thought to bed with me and let my subconscious mull it over during the night.  Bright and early the next morning, I awoke to this God whisper:

“Be here.”

I was confused at first since I was waking up in my folks’ house.  Then I realized that God was whispering across the miles from Texas.  I couldn’t go on living my life in two places.  It was time to chose.

Thus, my Texas license plate was born:  B Here.  I declined all the traditional background options like the Star of Texas, the Alamo, or God forbid, the Longhorn.  Instead, I chose a a field of bluebonnets.  To me, it symbolized being willing to bloom where I’d been planted.

Today, I’m a long way from being a Texan—I’m not sure if I want yet another label–but I have put down roots and am entering my second growing season.  With the right amount of nourishment, and careful pruning, I believe the soil will continue to be quite comfortable.

At least I hope so; since I’m here, I might as well B Here Today.