A curator of beauty
I woke at sunrise to find mist floating above the reservoir behind our home. Translucent clouds drifting over steel gray water, slowly vanishing in the rising light.
It’s moments like this that make life bearable these days. Beauty in the middle of madness.
Each day I do my best to find moments of amazement wherever I can. A tiny goldfinch trading seed with a friend at the feeder. A heron floating through the sky, long, graceful wings effortlessly moving air. An autumn leaf aflame in its ending, lying still against the black tar of the road.
And of course there’s now the beauty of kitten life. The spontaneous vertical hops that defy gravity. The tumbling ball of orange and black fur wrestling just for fun. The rumble of purrs against my chest at the end of a long play session.
Now in my wisdom years, faced with the challenges of a dramatically changing world, I choose to be a curator of beauty – someone who shares the light when things seem so dark.
Beauty is a force. A painted sky at sunset can stop a crowd in its tracks. The clashing waves of a wild storm will do the same. The first smile of a newborn who looks like an old soul in a new body will have everyone in the room – regardless of their beliefs or affiliations, cooing in unified delight.
Yes, beauty unites.
Sometimes I find beauty from those who share the calling. My friend Libby, for instance, walks every day. She’s covered more than the circumference of the earth in her travels and every morning she posts pictures on Instagram of what she finds on her journey. Her photos heal, and they inspire me to stay engaged in efforts to help others heal, too.
Some days it feels as though we’re at a tipping point. And we may be. But if we lean towards beauty, towards healing and light, we’ll head in the right direction together.
Here’s my latest contribution: