Beauty

Imagine being absolutely beautiful.

Anything could happen to you. You could just be swept up. On an adventure. Have a string of lovers. Men and women besotted by you. Giving up everything for you.

Changing every room you enter. Becoming the centre of the world, for everyone. When all anyone wants to do is look at you. Like, bathe in your beauty.

The whole world recomposing around you – your beauty. Everyone wants to pay you compliments. To talk to you. They feel elevated just by your presence. Your magnificence. You’re beautifying the world. Sharing your beauty. Bestowing it upon all. Everyone feels uplifted. Gladdened …

The most lovely, harmonious thing. And alive. And moving.

And who doesn’t want to delight you, just to be able to see your face, delighted? Who doesn’t want to charm you, just to see your face, charmed? Who doesn’t want to make you smile, just to see you smile?

That’s what it means to be beautiful. To have that effect. And everyone finding you delightful. Innocent, with your beauty. People doing stuff for you. Opening doors. Walking you places. Just to be with you. Alongside you. To feel the magic. The good luck. And beauty just radiating out of you. Beaming out of you.

And you take your adoration as a matter of course. As just what happens (to you – only to you: but you don’t know that.) As though they had nothing to do with you. As though people were always as nice as that, and to everyone. As attentive as that. As desirous of company as that.

 

The extremity of beauty. The uttermost of beauty. You today. Your face touched with light. That mascara. That eye-shadow. The fascination of your eyes. Of being looked at, by those eyes. Of those eyes, turning towards us.

Beauty: you can make things happen just by your presence. People are shaken out of themselves. Reminded. Of what? That things are Possible, after all. Not for them, perhaps. But Possible in the world. That there’s Hope in the world, after all. Hope for the world. That it’s not all just careening into darkness.

Beauty: proof that God exists, after all. That we’re not all doomed, after all. That we’re not all destroyable, replaceable, murderable, strangleable, chokable, shootable, stabbable. That there is salvation here on earth.

 

Beauty: you’re the curator of your own body. Enhancing its beauty. Making it yet more fabulous. More special. More exceptional. Dressing it. Bathing it. Making up its face. Making it yet more radiant.

 

Awakening the desire to Court. That make men surprised by their own wit. By their attentiveness.

As though they were in a musical, or something. As though their business was to delight you.

To make you laugh, just to watch you laugh. Just to hear it: your laughter. Just to see your laughing face. Its marvel.

 

You can make things happen – just by your presence. People are shaken out of themselves. Reminded. Of what? That things are Possible, after all. Not for them, perhaps. But Possible in the world. That there’s Hope in the world, after all. Hope for the world. That it’s not all just careening into darkness.

 

The fact that beauty is alive. The fact that beauty can pass through the earth. The fact that beauty can arrive here, in this town, on these streets. The fact that miracles are possible: that there is beauty. That revolution is possible That the world really can be overturned. That beauty can reach this place. That beauty can shine its light even here. That beauty can penetrated this darkness. Can break through the veils.

 

You can’t be anonymous. You can’t be just no one. You’re at the centre of the world wherever you go. What’s it like to be at the centre of the world?

 

Beauty, don’t you like being uncertain of your effects on others? Don’t you enjoy your powers being suspended, somehow? Risked. Becoming a little unsure …

A gap in the adoration of the world. So you have to win it back. A Challenge. So that things aren’t quite as easy as they should be. So that the world isn’t completely yielding, completely seducable. So that things don’t always go your way, for a time, at least. For a few moments, at least.  

A bit of Doubt. A bit of Uncertainty. Isn’t there a thrill to that? Like being on a fairground ride. Like watching a scary movie. The lights go out or a moment. You’re bewildered, for a moment. Exciting, isn’t it? Not to be perpetually in control. To be Up Against something.

Here is a Challenge, to which you have to rise. Beauty isn’t enough. Charm isn’t enough. Loveliness can’t do all the work for you. This is another arena. Now you have to work. Now you have to do something, not just be beautiful. Isn’t it fun to do a little bit of work. Isn’t it a thrill? Don’t you want to struggle, a little?

Not to be Certain of the outcome. Not to know what will happen. Not to be able to predict the course of things. A surprise – but also a thrill. A marvel. So things don’t always go your way

Beauty, by itself, isn’t enough. There are other games – larger ones, greater games. You have to earn your way by more than beauty and your beauty’s curation …

 

Changing every space you enter. Its rules. How it operates. As everyone makes way for you. Stands back, for a moment. As everyone’s startled. There you are. The centre of everything. The measure of all things. The sun around which everything orbits.

What an effect to have. But you’re drawn to the one upon whom you don’t have that effect. It’s like dogs drawn to non dog lovers.

Your beauty is undeniable. But it’s not enough for you to hear that you’re beautiful, is it? You want more than that. You want to exercise all your faculties. You’re interested in the one immune to your charms.