On Beauty

Author, poet and spirtualist John O'Donohue says that we "often mistake Beauty for glamour." So true. In that vein...

This is beautiful. She is beautiful (video is of a 90 year old woman doing light gardening and stretching)



Simplicity. Work. Movement. Beauty. Joy. Sharing a cup of tea with a friend. Heartfelt conversation.

I love her hands. They seem to hold such kindness and wisdom.

I like to think about my grandfather's hands.  When I remember him holding my hand, I can once again feel his closeness,  the warmth of them, the just-slightly-callused feel of a worker hand enveloping mine. And then there was the love I felt coming through them. Forever, the memory of them and what they offered me will bring me comfort. They were beautiful.



Now my grandmother's body is slowly wearing out. She came closer to death than she has ever been a few weeks ago. As she lay sick in a hospital bed, I held her hand and quietly took this picture.



This hand rubbed my back hundreds of times, prepared food for her family, held hundreds of books, packed grocery bags full of food for me weekly when I was in college.  Her hands wrote receipts for she and Grandpa's filter business, cooked "gook*", slipped on a choir robe every Sunday, and held my Grandpa's hand. Forever, the memory of her hands and what they offered me will bring me comfort. They were beautiful.

There is nothing more beautiful than giving and receiving Love.



*gook--Grandma's name for the random conglomeration of vegetables, meat, and beans she would throw together in a big pot for lunch. Served with Jiffy cornbread and never made the same way twice, even when she tried.  Served to family members and filter customers alike over the years, who unexpectedly popped in at lunchtime.