Orogenesis

Without beleaguering the point, my readers know my life has not been a cake walk. It's not something I try to dwell on, but it's unnerving sometimes how difficult it has been. Still, in my darkest moments, I was able to see beauty around me. Something at the heart of me cried out for beauty, and it was always there. 

The greatest defeater of happiness seems to be comparisons. It's so unfair to ourselves. No one lives the same life, so it's never going to be a fair comparison. Given our innate drive to better ourselves, we, of course, focus on those who have, in our opinion, done better than us. Social media makes this comparison process available 24/7. We can't even hide in the safety of our own homes, deep inside the womb of a hot bubble bath, without unfair comparisons. 

I know my life will change again, like a constantly evolving landscape, being built up and eroding at the same time. How can I compare my life to anyone's when I can't even sit still long enough to know what my life is actually composed of? As I sit before this great window watching the snow gently fall, I see beauty. I can see the wildlife trails highlighted by the snow. I notice big birds circling above and small birds visiting the bushes and brambles, singing their happy songs. The colors are muted this time of year, but held against the white sky and earth, they still draw the eye. 

There is beauty in this season of deadness. There is beauty in myself, as well, as I endure my own winter. There is always pain, and there is always cold, but, gladly, there is also beauty. It's safe to say I'm on the downslope of life. I read today about the Bulletproof coffee guy saying he wants to live to 180, even injecting his stem cells all over his body, spending millions to bolster his health. He's 45. I get it; he's in love with life. I can't even imagine the stories he might tell if he does live to 180. 

But I'm okay with saying goodbye to this fair earth. While there is great beauty here, I feel I've endured my fair share of pain, as well. Just as mountains are being pushed up, they are also being eroded. So are the various pushes and pulls on our lives. In the end, I hope it at least equals out. 

 
Wherever I am, I know I can see beauty. I can be in a distant airport and look around and see beauty in the shapes imagined by an architect's mind, in the faces of people I don't even know, in the words of children as they experience something completely new, in the lines of my own hands. I feel I'm being called further into the dark night, and I have to trust there is beauty there, too. While I'm afraid, I also feel calm, because I know I'll end up somewhere better than this.  

Finally, I see what the Master has created, the broad brushstrokes and intricate ones as well. Whether I am wandering the plains or the mountains or the beaches or the caves, I see what He has done and I marvel. There is beauty down to the cellular level and beyond. There is beauty hung above us in the heavens and swimming in the deep blue sea, unseen by all but the most intrepid of us. I'm fascinated by this great world, most of which I'll never see. I can still see myself as a little boy in the back of the family station wagon, with a stack of National Geographics given to me, devouring every word and every photograph. I've always been that fascinated little boy, enthralled and in love with what He's wrought. 

Thank you all for reading these words. I hope you see beauty in them, even though they've been tinged with trouble and pain. Just as the snow continues to fall outside, I know my own storm is not over. But I can still enjoy the beauty of it as it swirls around me.