On Beauty

I have a display of sea glass at my house.  I’ve collected it over a period of years from various places.  Some of the pieces I’ve gotten have been the usual sea glass colors- white, light blue, green, and brown.  Others are all kinds of exotic shades of yellow, red, purple, blue, gray- super unusual colors.  I love sea glass.  I love the ocean.  I love walking along the beach and looking for treasures.  I love having the reminder of this experience where I can see it everyday.

One day last winter I was on the phone and decided to sort through my collection and eliminate all of the brown pieces, while talking.  I threw some in the trash, put some in recycling-because, yes, I’m a recycling freak like that- thinking this would make my collection that much more beautiful.  I had never been a fan of the brown sea glass.  I mean, everyone knows where it comes from: some lazy person on the beach that discards or smashes their empty beer bottles on site.  Well, frankly, that is the source of most of the white and green, too- yet they are prettier to me.  I’m not that into brown.

And guess what?  The brown pieces are all gone.  And the sea glass display doesn’t look more beautiful, it looks LESS beautiful, WAY less beautiful.  You see, without the contrast that the brown provides, the other colors just can’t shine in their true brilliance.

I was walking out the door the other day and I glanced at my sea glass on the way out. And I realized:  that’s a good analogy for life.  LIFE is more beautiful because of the contrast.

I have had some SHIT go down in my life.  There have been times that I have lamented over this fact.  Why couldn’t I have chosen an easier life? (Because I didn’t want to.) How is it fair that I have had to deal with so much, am STILL dealing with so much, at times?  (It’s not, and it is.  Fair has nothing to do with life, really.  Silly question on my part.) …Maybe you can relate?

And you know, the real truth of it all?  I am able to feel SO joyful about the tiniest things.  On a regular basis.  And the big things too, when those happen.  I appreciate all of the good things in my life in a way that I’m not sure I would have been able to, had I not had the “worst” experiences mixed in.

Next summer, when I go to the beach, I’m picking up a bunch of brown sea glass and bringing it home.

Don’t make the mistake I did.  Don’t try to get all the brown sea glass out of your life.  For two reasons.  One, it gives you a reminder that you are not perfect, that life is not perfect, and that it’s not meant to be.

And the most important reason of all:  having the brown sea glass makes all the other colors appear more vibrant.  It helps you see the beauty.  All of it.  The beauty of ALL the colors together surpasses any other beauty that could possibly be.


3 Replies to "On Beauty"

  • Beau
    November 10, 2015 (4:55 pm)

    A lot of Native American tribes have a tradition of deliberately leaving some imperfection in their beadwork or textiles. Only God can be perfect. Human beauty lies precisely in our imperfections.

  • Tony Bogardus
    January 2, 2016 (6:51 pm)

    Good point by Beau. It also reminds me of the photo I’ve seen of a Japanese vase that was broken, and instead of being discarded, it was repaired with liquified gold, so the ‘flaws’ are just as beautiful (or moreso) than the rest of the vase.

    ‘Scars remind us that the past is real….’ – Papa Roach

  • Maria Merloni
    January 26, 2016 (9:58 pm)

    And a book that one of my professors from grad school wrote, called “Strong at the Broken Places” (a slightly different slant, yet similar concept)