The other day I walked into the gym and on the massage sign-up board, someone had written “You Are Beauty.” This prompted in me a huge, instinctive internal eye roll. I was cranky and, even on my best days, I’m not big on affirmations — especially when there’s a price tag attached.
But then, when I was doing my hamster thing on the treadmill, I started thinking about it. I’d let myself get so harried, so over-busy, that I had completely forgotten how true it is: You are beauty. I am beauty. Because of all the rain, we’re having an extra-long green season in Marin County (just look at our hills!) — and that’s beauty.
Seems like every five minutes I forget that when you take us right down to our essence, we are in no way separate from what makes our world a heartrendingly beautiful place. That understanding speeds right past me . . .
if I forget to open my eyes and let myself be touched (and often amused) by what I see . . .
My whole life, I feel like I’ve been chasing beauty more than filling out and appreciating what beauty I already am. And I’m not talking Vogue here — not Glamour or glamor. What I mean is how we’re all made of the same renegade, nondenominational loveliness that makes us sit up and go, “Holy shit, would you look at that sky?” (To me this is indeed a God-like thing, even though I live in “one of the most unchurched counties in the United States,” where only 5% of the population attends any kind of weekly spiritual gathering.) So I want to keep finding ways, every day, to remember what we’re about here — what’s at the heart of us.
And I want to say thanks to whoever wrote that dumb affirmation on the board at the gym. It brought me to my senses, even if only for long enough to write this down before I forget it again tomorrow.
