Where light shines
This morning I was getting ready for my yearly physical, and my mind wandered back to last year’s appointment. It was maybe three weeks after my mom died, and two months after my granddaughter was born.
I sat in the parking lot, mask on, waiting for the nurse to come out and do a Covid symptom check. She approached the car, looked at me and stopped.
“You’re so beautiful!”
That was not at all what I expected to hear. Maybe “you look sad” or “are you having trouble sleeping?” or even “are you okay?” would have made more sense.
She finished her temperature check, asked about symptoms, then said she’d call me in when they were ready.
I had to understand her reaction somehow; I pulled down the visor and stared into the mirror. Above the mask I saw my eyes … large, oddly bluer than normal, and filled with … something. Grief? Joy? Anxiety? Loss? Love? All of those things, surely, with the rollercoaster of emotions my family had been on.
This morning, as I thought back on that, it hit me. What she saw was my vulnerability. In those weeks, I had no choice but to let my authentic emotions rise to the surface, where they visible to anyone.
Maybe this is exactly what “beauty is more than skin deep” means. Our emotional hearts and all the messy feelings they hold are truly beautiful. We know it deep within ourselves. And if we can find a way to allow them, through being vulnerable, to rise to the surface, the whole world recognizes and respects them.
Shine on, my friend.