If there really is a God then she is most probably a painter. A painter who has fallen in love with her own creation. Paintings that are vibrant and alive. With each brush stroke she made us who we are; unique and yet similar in so many aspects. An elegant ensemble of pigments, so detailed, so bright, so beautiful.
The paintings, alive themselves, admired themselves and each other. They were grateful to Her. As time passed, the paintings started trying to understand what made them so beautiful. Trying to identify the colors on God’s palette so to speak. However, little did they know that in their presumptuous attempt to do so, they were becoming blind towards the numerous shades that God used in the paintings. They could no longer identify the subtle shades of genius in Her paintings…they had become color blind. They were convinced that they knew all the shades in God’s palette and so when they saw a new painting that God had made using a color completely different, they were confused. They said “God cannot have created you because your color is not on God’s palette.” They scorned her. They rejected her. They failed to see the beauty in the painting. They failed themselves.
It’s often said: “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.” But, is that really true? Can’t every painting/object be beautiful in it’s own right? Why does it need to be acknowledged by a “beholder”? Beauty, I believe, is intrinsic to itself. It does not need affirmation from outside. It’s existence does not need to be proved.
The society, at large, works on the basis of mutual appreciation. The “beholders” decide what is beautiful, hence acceptable, and what is not. Ignorant to the fact that they are color blind, they blatantly reject something they cannot see, they do not understand. In such a case, is it then the painting’s fault for being what it is? For being a loved unique creation of God? How can the blind appreciate beauty? What should the painting do?
Our judgements of good/bad, moral/amoral, often arise from the acknowledgement of others. Somebody praises us for something and we feel good. We blind ourselves, and constantly seek the opinion of other blind people. We want society to see us as “who I am” all the while most of us continue to fail to see ourselves. We try to conform ourselves within the pre-existing norms, suppressing our natural gifts, manipulating our perfect shades and convincing ourselves “I am now beautiful.” In a desperate attempt to be seen by the blind, we change and reject ourselves.
But what is the alternative? Should one try to impose one’s own views on the world and hope that one is not met by disapproval? Or, should one isolate oneself from the rest of the world and be who they are. The former is quite often a fantasy and the latter is not pragmatic. Maybe one should take the criticism head on. But how long do you think the tattered heart can hold on? How long before it breaks and gives in to the rantings of blind men who bicker at it for being different? Maybe, puny that we are, we cannot possibly find a solution that works for everyone. Maybe all that a painting can do is to not hate herself as she continues to survive in a world of blind men. Maybe all anyone can do is to not be blind towards oneself and keep living one day after another. Because beauty is inherent. It is not acquired. It does not need to be appreciated by anyone else other than oneself. Stay beautiful. Cherish yourself.