Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
One day during a conversation class I was helping facilitate we got onto this topic. We had begun discussing if life was beauty or if life was duty based on a Louisa May Alcott poem and as all good conversation classes go, we worked our way through multiple topics, resting for a bit on this proverb.
I love this proverb.
Maybe I should back up. (When I hear that someone loves this concept, my first thought is 'Back away slowly, hopefully they won't notice you.' This may seem like I am a terrible person, but very positive and enthusiastic people kind of scare me.) Allow me to explain why I appreciate this proverb.
This proverb is special to me because for a long time it was hard. To see beauty in anything. I was in a relatively dark time in my life around the time I made the lovely heart art project. (If you haven't read, check out my blog called 'Worthy'.) During this time, I started to develop a habit. Whenever something bad or frustrating would happen to me, I would try to create a story for the other people it involved. The worse I was feeling the more outlandish the stories could become. The person driving recklessly who just swerved and cut off the school bus, I am sure they were on their way to the hospital where their wife was giving birth. The older lady who cussed me out in line to get food, she once was a famous pianist but had had to come to this country as a political refugee. She had lost everything including her ability to play due to arthritis from the unfamiliar damp climate and she really just needed a smile.
While the stories were almost certainly entirely fiction, the habit taught me to look closely. It taught me to show a little more grace and to find the beauty that is so easily overlooked. When there is no obvious beauty, make some.
Since being in this country I have carried on the habit of looking for the beautiful and have learned to see beauty in new things.
Beauty can change and differ based on the individual. Everyone has their own ideas shaped by culture and their life experiences. Before if you asked me what was beautiful I might have said rolling green hills with wildflowers, foggy mornings when the sun rises over the river, the ocean before a storm, craggily cliff faces covered in trees with golden leaves. When I moved to college in the high desert plateaus on the edge of the Rocky mountains, my idea of beauty had to adjust. At first the lack of green and deciduous forests hurt my heart, but then I learned to see the beauty in breath-taking mountains and the yellow aspens and the striking skyline in downtown Denver. When I moved to Eastern Africa I had to adjust again. I learned the beauty of salt flats and dusty roads. I found beauty in the port that makes the mornings misty for a brief moment and in the skyline dotted by minarets from the abundance of mosques.
But I also learned to find beauty in places I don't usually look. As I rode the bus home on evening after class, a former student commented on how pretty I looked because of my head scarf. At this point, the scarf was a necessary evil. I had been experimenting with different ways of wearing it and fighting a losing battle to try to make it stay in place. Many times I would glance in the mirror and think, 'Well my head doesn't look too ginormous with the scarf tied this way' or 'Oh, I almost look nice in spite of this scarf.' Never would I have considered myself attractive because of the scarf. Yet this comment taught me about what she considered beautiful and allowed me a precious glimpse into her values. Because it seemed unusual at the time, I have remembered that moment.
I have learned to look closely at people.
At their walk: I have studied the women and girl's walks here but try as I can I can't seem to imitate it accurately, the graceful and slightly sassy swaying. The boys also have a specific walk, strutting and lounging against one another. Arm in arm with a friend, two girls will lean against each other laughing at whatever the one whispered in the others ear.
Into people's eyes: I have often found myself thinking about the woman, covered head to toe complete with the niqab that just passed me, 'Wow, she is beautiful.' I have learned to see expressions in people's eyes. And I have learned to recognize friends who cover fully by just their eyes. One friend is so easy to spot because her smile can always be seen in her eyes.
Into their smiles: It took me a minute to see the beauty that wasn't strictly defined by Western standards and media. To see the pride that resulted from a set of beautiful teeth with their faint pink line through them. A smile with gaps from missing teeth accompanied by a kiss on the hand in greeting. A toothless, innocent grin of an infant, proud of just learning to stand.
A teammate once put it like this: People here are beautiful because they show their life on their faces. You can see their stories.
My favorite thing about interacting with people and building relationships is learning their stories, through their words and deeds. People's stories are so beautiful and little glimpses paint pictures of who they are: how they live, how they show affection, their preferences in fashion, where they shop, who they are friends with, what words they say, what words they don't say, how they walk, how they hold themselves, how they interact with siblings, peers, elders, stranger. They tell stories through their lives. And if you are willing to look for it, you can find so much beauty. Even more than just seeing their beauty, if you are willing to, you can learn from them as well.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." I love this quote. I challenge you to go and ask ten people what they consider to be beautiful. It will reveal so much about the person and how they think and what they value. Maybe they will talk about the beauty in nature. Maybe the impressive architecture or the clouds or fashion or flowers. Maybe they will find beauty in a stranger's kindness. Listen and learn.