Is beauty skin deep?

Beauty. Is in the eye of the beholder. This may very well be true.

To me beauty is in the moment. It is not defined by a physical appearance, or even a personality, not an object, or an action. Beauty is in the culmination of the experience. In the moment. It is what I see, what I hear, what I smell, know, feel. It is the interaction of all of these, with whatever leads up to them. How I felt prior to the moment, effects how I will interpret the moment I am in. No one can define it for me, no one can interpret it, and as hard as I may try, I can never entirely repeat it.

I don’t experience the same photograph in the same way twice. The smell of the fragrant lilacs as I walk past them smell different, better (?), now than in another moment. My daughters’ expression of “Momma” is music to my ears, and each song varies ever so minutely from another. The words “I love you” and the gaze from a lover have a varying depths and hues. The beauty is in the changes, the experience of each moment… beauty is in the living and being.

It is my hope that I can convey this expression and reflection of beauty, and the experiences of it, to my children. I want them to believe that it is not the pretty hair, the fancy dress, or even the shape of their face or body that is beautiful, but the experience of each moment. It is in the sparkle in their eye as they tell a mischievous story; in their gaze of adoration as they watch their sibling make a perfect dive; and in the sound of their voice as they sleepily say “Goodnight”.

Beauty is in the act of kindness, in that moment when one realizes the full impact of their action. It’s in the pride shown on a child’s face as he comes to realize the accomplishment of a skill for the very first time. Beauty is in my mother’s voice as she shares the memory of her own mother’s joy at the news of my birth.

Beauty is revealed to me when I least expect it, and when I’m least likely to overlook it, but sometimes it just slips right by unnoticed. Beauty comes in fleeting instances, but also in serene wrinkles in time when everything seems to halt while I experience it. I can try to hold onto it, but beauty is as slippery as it is engaging.

Everything is more beautiful to me, when I am feeling the experience of beauty within (and about) myself.

About Trish

family legacy curator, social justice advocate, blogger, amateur photographer, reader, cyclist, runner & swimmer, mom of two

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