Pretty or Ugly (POU) Phenomenon

Every girl is beautiful. From the scrawny, knob kneed young girl-looking-in-mirrorsprites with eyes too big for their faces to the elderly, wrinkly, ones with voices that have become more gruff with time. Each person’s beauty is something that cannot be truly held by another. It is as unique as the fingerprints, the personality, the DNA.

It matters not what the current standard of beauty is. With time it too will change. Where once were celebrated rotund bottoms and pouty lips our current pop culture favors digitally enhanced pictures, unreal beings from the imagination.

Take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror and find one thing that you think is excellent. Tell yourself every moment of every day how amazing and excellent this one thing is that you find about you to be acceptable. Maybe even lovely.

Because as you admire this one thing a myriad of things will happen. The voices that tell you you’re ugly, too fat, or too thin, have eyes that are too close together, hair the wrong texture, moles in the wrong places, or have ears that stick out…. Well those voices will begin to fade into the background.

By finding one small piece of you to love unabashedly and to tout to the world your confidence will grow until one day you find two. Two parts of you that are worthy, deemed so by you. And then two becomes three and three becomes five and five becomes a miracle. The miracle that is you. Able to flourish and grasp that no one knows what beauty is. It’s something we find each day on our own in the least expected places.

The only person you have to be worth anything to, is you. And when you love you the world becomes indifferent and in its indifference a counterbalance of love and acceptance is formed between you.

Beauty is but one piece of a very complex puzzle in this life. Getting caught up in it breads an ugliness -the depth of which we are not prepared to shoulder the burden of alone. Speak up speak out. But don’t let the nasty world inside the fiber optic cables served up to you on screens small and large the world over dictate the language of your soul. Protect it. Shelter it. And do the same for others every chance you get. Because humanity is ugly enough without exposing yourself to opposing opinions of beauty. Just be you. Righteous, glorious, and most certainly… beautiful.

Which Road Leads To Peace

I heard a story for the second time yesterday about following peace.  At first, I didn’t recall that I had heard this story before.  Obviously I needed to hear it again.  To protect those that may not want to be named, I’ll spare the full details of the story.  But ultimately, the message is follow peace.

What does that mean?  The first time I heard the story I was quickly able to pinpoint the decision I was facing and which one was right – which one would bring peace.  It became much more obvious and blossomed in front of me and I was able to move forward.  I was at peace.

This time; however, I’m finding complexity in the answer.  What once brought me near instant resolve has me now questioning the very fabric of what makes up my life.  Am I at peace?  Am I following peace?  Do I know what peace is in regard to this situation?  No.  I don’t.  But I do know that I am not at peace and I am not following peace.  Which, strangely enough, is a step ahead of yesterday.  Or maybe it’s behind, as at least yesterday I was delusional.

I remember a time when I used to hear people say “Ignorance is bliss” and I would wonder how that could be true.  Looking back, I was clearly the ignorant, because now I understand the bliss that is lost.  If only I didn’t know…  Clearly that is not the way I really want to live my life but there is that bittersweet taste left behind when the ignorance of a situation, a friend, a job, a life, whatever it is, washes away.  Is the best path to salvage and correct, polish and fix.  Or is it walking away.

What methods do you use to determine the best path?  Well in the words of the Cheshire Cat I leave you with the thought – that if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.

The Crow and The Cherry Blossom

 http://www.flickr.com/photos/mshades/2370379317/

Expo Crow, Osaka

Trickling down the river flows the essence of the trees.  The place where each lifeblood comes together, forming new isotopes, dredging among the earth.

All things that breathe whisper in the wind and the waters.

Crow flies down, drinks.  Cautiously his guard waits.  Calm and still warning signs of their own.  Petals float haphazardly into the stream while crow blinks.  Trigonometry in an instant.

Wherewithal of crow embodied unto me.

Take The Past And Shove It

I want nothing to do with the life that involved you.  I’ll take the furniture I bought.  The kids we had.  The stories, remembered more fondly than they were earned.  But as for the house, the town, the job, and the majority of the friends, I’ll leave them all behind.  Surgically removed like a tumor.  Exacting my revenge on your misery I take the treat of rebuilding a new life.  One where you are all but forgotten.  I know you feel me erasing you too.  You show it with the hesitation in your voice every time you speak to me.  Knowing that you willingly gave up all that you had and yet still unsure exactly what for.  Is it better now?  I wonder sometimes but it’s a fleeting thought at best these days.  Then again I never really knew what “it” was anyway.

The road before me is paved with golden sunlight, a multitude of flowers in full bloom.  Nearly any road before you looks like a blessing when you’ve wandered forth from the pits of hell.  Subjected to fire and evil by those sworn to love you.  Love isn’t something I’ve given up on.  It is something that is always present, forever around me, and true.  No I will never give up on love.  But I did give up on you.

But you gave up on me first.  Ultimately that singular fact is what gave me the power to walk away.  To remove myself from the toxic poison that you heaved upon my chest.  To see light.  To see opportunity.  To see me.  The me that is still reeling, tiptoeing across the surface of my life seeing the depth below the frozen water ready to plunge but afraid to die, again.  Not literally of course.  Perhaps all humans die a thousand deaths before they take their last breath.  Each death bringing new life.  My obsession with the Phoenix, explained.  Plain.  Black and White.

For a person of so many absolutes I’m always coming up with varied shades of grey.  Pantone effect. It’s the place that bleeds in between the absolutes where I find life.  That yin and yang.  What were you to me anyway?  A lesson learned?  A deeper look into what could be?  A stain to give me appreciation for the unscathed?  No.  Too cliché.  You were… everything I couldn’t ever be.  Or at least that’s what I used to think.  Sick, sad, beautiful and true.  Even if truth was something I could never get from you.  At least you taught me how to lie.  Too bad the only person I ever lied to was you.  Karma.