Finding Beauty

I’ve always loved a good view. Standing on top of a mountain, surfing in a tropical inlet, swimming in the ocean under a full moon and a sky full of stars. These are holy moments of awe, silence, oneness with nature, when all I can do is let the clean air fill my lungs as I stare. Speechless. As Ron Burgundy said about the view of San Diego, “Drink it in. It always goes down smooth.” I’ve never been to San Diego, but I can say these words ring true wherever I go.


A moment in Costa Rica just a few weeks ago. This vista came at the top of a long staircase winding through the rainforest.

Beauty takes my breath away. Unfortunately, I can’t always be hiking mountains or lounging on beaches. Right now I’m finishing university in a place that is too small to be considered a city. While it’s wonderfully close to the mountains and makes me feel like I live in a doll house, the environment is stagnant – a little less than inspiring, especially when fresh snow is hiding spring.

But I still find ways to get my breath taken away. The key is looking for them. It’s harder in everyday life, when I’ve procrastinated writing an essay or skipped a shower. But it’s absolutely possible. A grand view is exponentiated beauty, but beauty can come in smaller forms, too.

I see it in my blender each morning as bananas, oranges, and spinach swirl together. I see it in the way the wind was blowing as the snow fell, so all the trees were covered perfectly on one side. I see it in fluid lines of architecture, or the ivy that covers my house gradually coming back to life. I can always see it in the sky, although these vast expanses of gray are presenting a challenge. I hear it in Florence and the Machine playing through my headphones and in the roar of cars speeding along wet asphalt. Beauty is everywhere.


Ireland, 2014, I realized my sunglasses actually had a rosy tint.

It’s a mindset, a lens through which I see the world, like wearing rose colored glasses. But it’s not foolish naiveté – it’s childlike awe in the soul of an adult. It’s choosing to see things simply, beautifully, sweetly, training your eyes to dance around mud puddles instead of boring through them. Try it.

Try finding beauty in everything, even something you instinctively think is hideous. I don’t love the worn carpeting of my bedroom floor, but the texture has interesting dimension, and the blend of purple and green is a little enchanting. It takes a sense of humor and a creative eye – things that anyone can cultivate, but it makes a world of difference.

Stay beautiful –