May you Walk in Beauty

May you walk in Beauty. So goes the first line of a Native American blessing that made its way into my poetic memory some time ago. As an adolescent trying desperately to fend off the authority of Image and the judgments, mirrors, crash diets, and insecurities that hide in its shadows, I did not understand the depth of this prayer. How is beauty a blessing when the pursuit of external beauty – body, lips, stride, reputation, career choice – is a journey through a briar-patch of self-doubt? Ah, now I understand. This is where you walk away from mirrors and media pressures and other people’s ideas of beauty, fall through the looking glass and re-emerge into a world of extraordinary beings. The same world of billboards and screaming labels and loud noises and violence, but perceived with a new pair of eyes.

Eyes. Prism eyes that carefully tune five sense organs: eyes, ears, nerve-endings, nostrils, lips. Eyes. Eyes of a child who “discovers the beauty of the world every moment again and again.” A new pair of eyes and a restored dedication to consciously recognizing the Beauty and Abundance that Is; a new pair of prism eyes and a rekindled commitment to participating in the Creation of Beauty in spaces where the stars do not shine as brightly. Meeting violence with compassion and love – this is the path King, Gandhi and the Dalai Lama choose. Beauty. Believing in Beauty in spite of the suffering and violence that try to strangle our songs and celebrations and poetry and commitment to life and love. Hope in the face of the fear and deep-seated prejudices that tear us apart. Beauty away from mirrors and magazine covers and accusations and violent television programs that air live on the streets of cities and towns in every nation around the world. Beauty that has the power to heal cold hearts, inspire reconciliation between warring nations, transform dissonance into harmony, help brothers and sisters open up and listen to the morning birds that sing for them. That sing for us.

May you walk in Beauty. Yes, I understand. When you walk in beauty, your heart is open and you believe in the power of love; in the power of compassion. You believe in the power of your actions, your smile, your touch, your dedication to the highs and lows of the human experience. You believe in the power of sharing Beauty and cease to hoard precious jewels that lose their magic when hidden away in a lock-box to gather dust. And because you believe in the power of Beauty you begin to walk with intention, speak with intention, act with intention – energized and awed by the power of your actions to transform, inspire, illuminate. May you walk in Beauty is another way of saying: may you have reason to believe that life is worth living. May you find yourself living moments that inspire you to share and contribute to the happiness of all the creatures you meet along the way. May you always be generous. May you always share your smile. May you always recognize the little wide-eyed-wonders of the world even when professionalism points his finger and calls you unsophisticated. May you walk in Beauty. May we walk in Beauty.

In the Beauty of:
- Washing bright-colored cloth and watching the reds, yellows, greens and blues bleed in a slow spiraling tornado down the drain. Back to the earth.
- Listening to the laughter of two lovers who tattooed their love on their hands. Two lovers who sing hello and goodbye and always steal one last kiss before parting. Listening to the sweet melody of lovers at play with deep appreciation; gratitude – even though I sleep alone.
- Disappearing into the imagery rich mind of a Tibetan woman who sees trees as “the jewelry of the mountains;” and then gazing skyward through the green canopy of the avocado tree.
- Maria. Who greets me with flowers and kisses and a heart of gold; who washes dishes with her hips swaying to the curvy rhythms of salsa. Who calls me sister and receives my love when I do the same, sister.
- Grinding spices with mortar and pestle on a mountaintop with a view that makes you believe you can fly. Working with our hands to create, to nourish, to feed, to share. Grinding there in the shadow of the volcano
- Fuchsia flower petals swirling in a porcelain toilet
- Saying “yes” to invitations that change your plans.
- Ripe red coffee fruits.
- Listening to three grown men sword-fighting with six year-old Lucas just after dinner. Before bedtime Imaginations running wild. Consciously recognizing the Beauty of Play. Vital play.
- Feeling overcome with love for the children of La Cambalacha. Sitting in a circle by the lake painting watercolor images on our arms and ankles -- I paint you, you paint me. I permit you to touch my skin with watercolors. I open, just a little bit. Yes – watching as these budding flowers open little by little. Building confidence among this group learning to express themselves in paint, words, movement, dance, song. An expansive feeling within my heart: wanting deeply to know each and every one of these complex coming-of-age beings. To offer support and love and guidance as they encounter the many tints and shades of life. Looking them in the eye. And writing simply, “This I know: I love.”

I love