I’ve never considered myself beautiful. Not once. I don’t feel sad about it. It’s just not an adjective I would ever use to describe myself. Really, it’s okay. I kill cute. It’s my lane, and I like driving in it.
Having said that, I love when I catch beauty peeking out from behind the curtains of our lives. She isn’t altogether shy; she just bides her time . . . waiting for those moments we are most unaware of all the things we have done to try to be beautiful. It’s really kind of silly. All the dressing up and the painting up. All the add-ons and enhancements. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing inherently evil in a perfectly styled hairdo, a flawless complexion or that one in a million fashion find. No, not at all. However, beauty doesn’t live there. Gratefully, she isn’t applied. She’s on her best behavior when discovered.
I see her in the brilliance of the orbed sun at dusk; lighting the heavens on fire, she hangs heavy in the evening sky. She screams in the explosion of uncontrollable laughter; the kind that tilts our heads, breaking our necks into unconscious angles. Suspended in time, we succumb to the forces of amusement, and merriment becomes our master. And when laugh lines expose those deep rivers of pure joy, we greet her. Yes, beauty lives right there. She bows her knee to two heads joined in unrelenting waves of grief. She is aware that sharing the pain dulls sharp edges. The ashes cool faster that way. She knows this so well because beauty is forged in that fire. Eternally. She also erupts from outrageous compassion. When one hand touches another in need, beauty gratefully and perpetually hits her mark.
No, beauty isn’t made. She isn’t even born. And most certainly, artists don’t create beauty. They are simply here to record it. No, she exists beyond time and space, altogether separate from the human experience. And even though she communes with us, her form and substance were inspired by the Creator. How else can we explain culture’s pursuit of her, as if she could ever be captured. Beauty is a force burning us from the inside out, cauterizing our weaknesses. Reminding us of what was once lost and is now found, forevermore.