Beholder Be Held

I've heard, as I suppose many of you have, that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Every time I hear that it is in reference to physical beauty. But what if we learned to behold the beauty found in our shitty life circumstances?

Tonight I watched an episode of Grey's anatomy, then a little internet porn (oh stop it, you know you've done it too) felt gross afterward and then got a good naked cry in, while listening to Sarah MacLachlan on my newly updated Myspace profile because this is apparently what I do now when I am in a post traumatic break up funk. Don't bother judging, because at this point I am WAY too past the point of giving a shit.

Anyway, so back to the point. As I was sitting here literally in a moist bundle of tear soaked bed sheets listening to SM's "Wintersong" I sat bewildered, wondering how in the hell she could make an ambiguously painful experience of some kind sound so beautiful. Her bittersweet melodic prose made it sound like pain was actually a necessary component to the formation of hope. I listened and transferred her words to my current situation and I reflected on memories, visualized hopes, and remembered the many other times in my life that I have survived. The pain doesn't disappear with this mindset, but neither does my strength to bear it all.

If beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder, then I think I will behold myself (in a non-internet porn kind of way) in the hopes of transcending what so often is thought as ugly. Something so pure, raw, real, and formative can't possibly be ugly in a true sense. Nothing that is truthful or necessary is ugly. Every nook and cranny of what I am experiencing these days, no matter how train wreckish it all seems, will run its natural, necessary, destructive and lovely course just like a river smoothing rough rocks. As a result, I, the beholder of such beauty, will be held.