On Beauty

Isn’t it something to choose beauty? 

Not happiness, optimism, or even hope – Beauty. 

Beauty in the chaos of the world. This world. Beauty in the eye of tragedy, adversity, and absurdity. Beauty when nothing left seems to make sense. Isn’t it something?

A concept that has seemingly been left behind, yet the question loyally repeats—patiently.

It does not deny what is wrong or hard. It does not ignore or deny suffering. It exists side by side, in spite of, or maybe even because of. The richest form of life.

Today insists on a barrage of distractions and hollow consumption that claim loudly and repeatedly to fill the void. The monster under the bed of our time.  

But beauty is grounding in its tactile qualities and freeing in its ethereal ones. A curious substance. Nourishing. Heartbreaking. Truthful. Innate. It exists by us, for us, all around us – in art, nature, community, and so on. 

It is beauty that brings us back to wonder, childlike wonder – where infinite possibility exists. A starting place and an end point, if I ever saw one.