There are days where it seems impossible to see beauty anywhere – like when you leave your hotel at 3:30 a.m. because you are scheduled for a meeting at 3 p.m. two states away.
You manage to wash your hair, but negligently wad it on the top of your head into a messy bun as you rush out – already in a bad mood. It will be hours before any coffee place in route opens.
The gas light comes on. The gas pump doesn’t work. The gas station attendant is rude.
You glance at your emails while you grab an extremely disappointing lunch. You delete messages that suggest they may be less than pleasant before reading them.
You put your makeup on in the car, get flipped off, and cry a little.
It’s difficult to push so hard. It’s even more difficult to see beauty in these times. Sometimes you need to look for it – trusting that even when you can’t see them, the beautiful things are still there.
In the same day…
It’s the hairdresser whom I call in a panic when its 12:30 in the afternoon, “Help! I have a meeting at 3 o’clock and I need to look like I haven’t been driving for 12 hours to get to it.” No problem. “When you get back into town, come straight here.”
Marce at Quapaw Cutters in Little Rock, you are the best of the best! People don’t see you equipping me with last-minute, perfect curls. But that’s what you do and it’s important to me. It’s something beautiful in my life.
It’s the patient soul who hides in a corner booth with me after a long day. It’s his eyes that watch me shake as I unload my insecurities. It’s his hands holding mine and the comfort of knowing that my secrets are safe, and that my vulnerabilities will never render me lesser in his eyes. He is extraordinarily beautiful to me.
It’s the friends whom life separates for weeks at a time but the minute we are together, no time is lost. Our bonds are forever. It’s the mini-coffee vacations in the middle of the day and the anticipation of ice cream Sunday celebrations every week that also make my life beautiful. I am very grateful.
It’s the people who read my blog, knowing that my work is far more than merely a promotional campaign. It’s my heart. It’s my diary. When people show interest in my work, they are showing interest in me. That’s something I don’t deserve, and I am so blessed. Beautiful.
It’s the bridges I’ve left intact – the maturity to be kind to people who don’t deserve it and the openhearted reception of such displays of grace that are the most beautiful. It’s knowing that I’m not perfect, but can still be gentle to myself anyway.
The beautiful things are not always front and center, but they are always there. We just need the courage to look for them.