I’m hearing it more and more lately, this idea that repeatedly sharing beautiful corners of your life is deceptive, because the viewer isn’t able see what’s hidden around the edges — this idea that the sharer, by selective portrayal, is perpetuating a view of reality that isn’t representative of the human condition.
I don’t think I buy it. I think instead, our preoccupation with beauty is precisely because of our human condition. It is because we are broken that we long for wholeness. It is because of the darkness that we crave the light. It is because of the chaos that we ache for order. It is because of life’s temporal nature and inevitable death that we rejoice when new life comes into the world.
I hear women talking, in that sometimes-cruel way women do, mocking the writer whose blog is filled with anecdotes of small joys, mocking the photographer who sees the one sparkling thing while rust and dust ravage on. “It is not realistic,” they chide. “It doesn’t show the whole picture.” “No one really lives like that,” they laugh. “You should see my house.”
But I don’t want to join them.
I’m not an optimist by any stretch of the imagination and yet — I don’t want to join them. Has the world really become so bleak that we need to mock the light? Has the world really become so dark that we now say the one who points the way to beauty is shallow?
I don’t think that’s the way to live this “one wild and beautiful life”. 
Instead, let’s set out to see beauty. The kitchen sink may be filled with dishes, but the sun is catching the single blossom on the cactus just so, and let’s celebrate that. The corner chair may be heaped with clean laundry, but the wind is pulling at the curtains just the tiniest bit, and the just-budding branches tap against the window with every ebb and flow of the breeze, so let’s celebrate that. Your child maybe screaming and you may be exhausted but just look! She’s alive and she’s miraculous, so let’s celebrate that. And even — oh especially! oh, give me strength!– in the face of death, we can’t erase it. There will still be piercingly bright sun and there will still be blueberry pancakes and the seasons will still change and time will still march on. We can’t reject it all.
It’s ok to see the beauty and the brokenness, side by side.
Let’s set out to create beauty. Eat on the living room rug with the nice dishes in the middle of the week — not because it’s been a good day, but because it was a bad day. Serve breakfast in bed even though your kids will definitely climb onto the tray and spill it all, and the people on Instagram might whisper, “No one actually does that.”
But that’s okay.
Let’s be the ones who do the things no one else does.
Let’s be the wild ones. Let’s be the uncommon ones. Let’s be the ones who are a little bit of light, a little bit of crazy, the ones who aren’t afraid to shout “Glory!” at that one glowing cloud on the horizon when the rest of the world is fixated on the storm. <3
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Unique gifts featured in these photographs include the handmade Hot and Cold Soapstone Serving Platter c/o Uncommon Goods [shop more gifts for women here] and the fill-in-the-blank What I Love About You journal c/o Uncommon Goods [shop personalized gifts here].
Additional Credits :: Flokati Sheepskin Rug: Shades of Light | Mexican Blanket: Thrifted | Hmong Textile Pillow: Boho Pillow on Etsy | Owl Mug: West Elm via Four Hands Creations on Etsy | Enamelware: Vintage, Made in Yugoslavia | Handmade Kokeshi Doll: See Through the Mist on Etsy | Stencil Art: 26:PM
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2 thoughts on “Let’s Be the Uncommon Ones”
What a beautiful post! I couldn’t agree with you more. I am sharing this on my FB page.
Yes! There will always be blueberry pancakes! I hold on to that beauty and grace. I also accept your challenge not to join those who mock small beauties in the midst of the dark.