Natural Beauty and Where We Find It

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.