Finding Beauty that Heals

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Beauty is the bedrock under all of life. Sometimes, like bedrock, I have to dig deep to uncover it. Other times, it is so present it’s overwhelming. It’s everywhere, easy, free for the taking.

Today was one of those times.

Coming on the heels (or rather, smack in the midst) of a time when beauty has been well hidden in my life, the contrast is so obvious it’s laughable.

I’m basking. Yes, this is a stop-and-smell-the-roses, appreciate-the-moment-while-it’s-here kind of thing. There’s some kind of truth in those tired old phrases.

The electric green grass.

The whispery, shivery breeze.

Watching my littlest boys play in the dirt, loving them so much I can’t stand it.

Playing music I love in the car with the windows open, each note isolated and lovely and somehow still a part of everything else.

No matter how much it seems like it won’t, spring always comes. The harder, excruciating kind of barren winter beauty, the kind that empties and cleanses and shapes us, only lasts for a season.

I say this to remind myself — when beauty is hidden, dig for it. Find it. And when it is all around you, grab it. Drink it. Soak in it. Stop and notice every little blade-of-grass bit of it. And gather it up like a treasure. Pile it in the storehouse of your heart.

Beauty, even remembered beauty, heals.

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