Beauty is not intended to be viewed in abundance. It’s too
much. Less is more.
(Who am I kidding? Even I don’t believe that completely.) Can
we agree that beauty in small doses and in unexpected places is more available
to us than grandeur and spectacle?
The Antidote to Pristine
Think of the closest cluster of people to your home. It may
be a crossroads, a commune, a village, or a city. It is a place of inherently
messy people. We people are the antidote to a pristine condition. Here’s how we
function.
People—in small groups or large—come into an area, tear up
the earth, create artificial walls and a roof to block out the elements, and
call it improvement. We don’t often work with nature. Rather we recreate it to
our liking. That’s what I meant about being the antidote to pristine-ness. We
don’t stop there.
When we are warm and dry, we install sidewalks. We plant
trees. Beside the sidewalks. We scratch our heads when that results in crooked,
cracked, ankle-twisting trails past our improvements. Improvements which now
need a new coat of paint, at the very least, and have you seen those weeds? The
ones in the areas around the house where we recreated our own miniaturized versions
of prairies and pastures? What are we going to do about those?
Stewards and Others
Wait! This was
not about maintenance; it was about beauty. But, since we’re here …
Some people are gifted stewards. They have a vision to
create order, or even ordered disorder, in planting beds. They wisely choose their
plantings and we feel good each time we pass their homes. Their lawns are well
tended. Their driveways are sealed and swept. Their vehicles are in the garage.
All we see is in good repair. The overall effect is one of beauty.
We don’t all fit that mold. Some of us, based either on
necessity or inclination, focus on other things. We are okay with the fungus
slowly spreading on the shady side of the house. If we roll up the hose it will
be that much heavier to drag out the next time we use it. We are disinclined to
infringe upon the right of weeds to flourish.
Before passing judgment, consider that we may not share the
same perceptions. You see peeling paint. We see the way the house was when we
moved into it. Memory trumps reality. This explains why we still think some
clothes look good on us. Oddly, if we believe strongly enough it doesn’t become
true, but we are much more successful in carrying out the notion. That’s why
bib overalls, a kilt, silk shirts, and a cowboy hat are still in my wardrobe.
Easy now. That’s a selection, not an ensemble.
Coexistence
Beauty and weeds can coexist and both can thrive. And that’s
my point. You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? In this mess that surrounds
any congregation of people, splashes of beauty happen. Some are intentional and
others are spontaneous. They are remarkable because they are least expected
where we find them. A volunteer rose can sinuously wind its way through a
rusting chain link fence. Sunlight and clouds can reflect from a puddle atop an
abandoned fuel drum. Even the weeds have seed pods bursting open and sending a
burst of fluffy missionaries abroad on the next gust of wind.
One thing(s)
I suggest that these glimpses of beauty would be just
another member of the choir if we didn’t find them in solitude. It is their very
singularity we find most attractive. I find this true of people as well. I
don’t know anybody who truly has it all. But everybody I know has at least one
trait that I find winsome. Their laugh, their loyalty, or their intense
attention to a duty or a cause is their rose in the fencerow for me. Their
kindness, their intellect, or even their fashion sense attracts me. They may
have more than one excellent aspect, and that’s a bonus. But just one will keep
me coming back to them like one good golf shot will lure me back to the links. I
love the unexpected.
If you don’t know what your one thing is, ask somebody. You
may be surprised. Once you find it, learn how to nourish it. While you’re at
it, why not make a list of the ‘one thing’ in other people? After all, they may
ask you what theirs is.
Michael Angelo Caruso tells his audiences to practice
shallow compliments and deep compliments. Shallow compliments are still
valuable. They’re just more about the surface of a person. “I love that scarf.
What a good color for you! You have pretty eyes.” Hearing those compliments may
quickly boost a person’s mood. How much more would a deep compliment
accomplish? “You are such a kind person. I never doubt your integrity. You are
a terrific example of faithfulness.”
I believe ‘one things’ are like rainbows. Sometimes they will catch our attention and make us stop in wonder. Other times we’ll miss them entirely. If we want to be an accomplished spotter we need to be intentional about looking for them. Let’s compliment the people around us and look for their deeper gifts. Let’s let them know we notice. Let’s become stewards of encouragement, attracting people to ‘drive past our yards’ because that’s where they feel affirmed and valued. By the way, I really like that you read this all the way to the end. Thank you for persevering.
