The Unbeautiful Beautiful

Beauty is subjective, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty is up to the individual and personal. I love the word beauty because it is so layered and multi-dimensional. When I conjure up the image of beauty there is no one image that comes to mind. The word itself signifies a myriad of meaning to each person. It’s oxymoronic, yet seamless. Edges jagged and raw to the eye but unified and cohesive all at once. To some beauty can connote the glamorous unflawed images in a magazine. It can be a note of music in a song, a melodious tune that speaks to the soul. Nature in all its glory. The raw, jagged edges of a canyon. The birth of a child in all its glory and pain, a baby’s first cries piercing the air as it takes its first breath in this world. Beauty can be order. Beauty can be chaos. It can be the look of love in the eyes of your partner. The random act of kindness to a stranger on the subway. It’s all around us yet nowhere. It’s in all of us if we choose to see it. Beauty is a dichotomy yet harmony. In the darkest hour, in the dimmest moments of our lives there is beauty to be found. In the midst of the ugliness and pain of life there is light. The underlying dance of the world says, “I’m alive, I’m alive.” A seed rots before it grows. A mother must experience the pain of childbirth before she is given the gift of life. The Jewish nation is reborn after the Holocaust. Our very breath and existence is synchronized with the earth and humans of this Earth. At the very moment of a death there is a birth. Life is cyclical. The world is orchestrated and composed to us. Should we choose to see it, it is there. The very same situation that would be a blessing for one can be a source of ugliness and discomfort for another.

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