Funny You Should Ask: There Is Still So Much Beauty to be Had

by Jay Webster

Hello, Friends. It’s good to see so many of your faces in the reading audience again this month.

So, how are things? You can be honest. It feels like a lot of us are on the struggle bus right now. There are obviously plenty of reasons, but for many there’s a gray they can’t quite put their finger on. I’m right there with you.

I know. I would be surprised if I were you, too. I mean, take the overwhelming success of this monthly column alone and you would think I had the world on a string, but I struggle sometimes. I mean, not like you … but I struggle.

And many of the things that used to numb that struggle don’t seem to be helping as much anymore. Most of my creative pursuits have run aground on Frustration Island. I used to enjoy home projects, now they just feel like a dogged “to-do list.” I’ve lost interest in many of the things that used to entertain me. And over the last several months I’ve been suffering from spiritual neuropathy, where I feel disconnected even from the divine (despite my best efforts). I mean, take the overwhelming success of this monthly column alone and you would think I had the world on a string, but I struggle sometimes. I mean not like you… but I struggle. “So what to do with the rest of today’s afternoon?” Maybe this will help. In a rare moment of tranquility a couple of days ago,

I heard this encouragement in the upper chambers of my soul: “There is still so much beauty to be had.” Isn’t that refreshing? Yes, admittedly things are not all “fine” in our world, our neighborhoods, our bodies, or even our minds, but there is still so much beauty to be had. Our lives are not painted using only one brush.

Here’s what I mean. Yesterday, I was driving downtown on my way home and a kid, probably about 12, was crossing the street to the OnCue, and he was walking in just such a way as to balance a brilliant pair of knock-off Ray Bans on his face. His first pair of cool sunglasses and he wanted the world to see them and attest to his shared coolness. I so remember that feeling, that intense desire to look and feel cool. I remember having to cock my head just right to keep my glasses on (I looked a little like Anthony Michael Hall in Breakfast Club) and knowing I was going to wear those sunglasses until it was literally too dark to see. As long as there is a desire and want to be cool, there is still so much beauty to be had.

To me, kids are like the canaries in the coal mines. Remember how they used to take the little yellow birds down into the mines? As long as they continued to sing, the miners knew everything was okay. That’s the way it is with kids. As long as kids chirp with adolescent frenzy, as long as girls lean and bend in indiscriminate ballet moves and boys pinch and pull and tickle in awkward displays of affection, there is still so much beauty to be had. The air in the coal mine of the world is still suitable for life and work.

As long as artists are still inspired to paint and mold and write, or plant colorful steel flowers in beds of concrete at Unity Square … As long as musicians still hear melodies and lyrics … As long as there is still awe and enjoyment … then the lyrics of the band Modest Mouse ring true: “You're not wrong, things are a mess…But there's much more than this.” There is still so much beauty to be had.

As long as people are falling in love and taking that first kiss and risking it all on togetherness … As long as newborns still smell like hope, there is still so much beauty to be had.

Look, the last year (maybe even the last several) has been hard on many of us. There’s no getting around that. We’ve seen the frailty of life and have been confronted with the limitations of many of our most treasured pursuits: possessions, promotions, dreams, sex, and romance. None of these things have managed to bring the happiness or peace of mind they once did. The words of King Solomon (noted as the wisest man on the Earth) come to mind: “Life sucks, then you die” (1980s translation). It’s amazing he didn’t get hired to write for Hallmark.

But even in all that, there’s this perverse silver lining: We’re not alone in the suck. Lots of people feel the way we do, and that’s an encouragement — because otherwise it would mean something was wrong with us. Yes, admittedly things are not all “fine” in our world, our Instead, because a lot of these neighborhoods, our bodies, or even our minds; but there experiences are universal, it is still so much beauty to be had. Our lives are not means we’re normal! Aren’t we painted using only one brush. lucky? We may be on the struggle bus, but at least all the seats are filled. And, there are some things you can do to lessen the suck-age. The first is being honest with yourself. When the clouds begin to build up on the outskirts of your mind, it’s easy to befriend denial because it’s scary and you don’t know where this thing is going to go. The problem is, both you and your new friend, denial, know the clouds are really out there. Next, do the thing I hate. Talk to someone. I’m not a fan of voluntary vulnerability. I always feel like I’m going to share too much and from that point on, people are going to look at me with the side eye, wondering if I’m going to crack. Find a spouse or friend or someone you can trust who doesn’t have a side eye. I’m saying this as someone who has been forced into this over the last year. (See … still not voluntary.) I even found that in “my own spiritual journey” where I usually enjoy just my own company … others are making it better. And finally, I’ve decided on two things: One, I will be intentional in acknowledging beauty (goodness, life, hope) when I come in contact with it (even if I have to say it out loud). And two, I will make my thoughts agree with what I know to be true and when “grayness” tries to approach, I will refuse to entertain it. At this point, if you come to my house, you will likely hear me saying audibly, “Nope.” (Sometimes in succession, “Nope. Nope. Nope.”) It’s ridiculous, but it helps. And, as my father-in-law says, “All we’re looking for is effective.” This feels very Mister Rogers-ish today, but for whatever reason, I don’t mind. Tune in next month for my annual installment of “What I did over my Summer Break” … when I will interview my nineyear-old daughter again. It’s always good for a little insight and a few laughs (and proof that the canaries are still chirping.) Until then — see the beauty, acknowledge the beauty, and enjoy the beauty — there’s so much more to be had.