THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE CRITIC

The opposite of beauty is criticism.

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Beauty isn’t always obvious. It’s sometimes discovered in the secret places, the places we uncover when we choose to look again.

How often we dismiss. How quickly we criticize. Judgement is the playground of the mind. It guards itself from the unfamiliar, holding its toys like naughty children without understanding that there is always enough to go around.

This stinginess. Of hope and joy and light. It seems the one hardest to get along with is where our attention resides.

But then there’s Beauty. Only from the spirit is it truly recognized. Not intended to be evaluated or rated on some arbitrary scale. Sometimes obvious, often covert, Beauty is in everything felt and visualized.

Criticism is the Beauty killer. Like an invisible wall [that we ourselves create] it stands between what we were designed for. That is, to create. Beauty lives within the possibility—
The fresh idea,
The changed perspective,
The belief in oneself.

One moment I am propelled into this glorious infinity of what can be. Then such tragedy when the mind takes hold—
The interior conversations,
The doubt and disbelief,
The comparison paired with “it’s been done,” and “what’s the use?”

That critical spirit. The most important thing is to recognize that it’s become a part of you. Not some isolated, “sometimes” response but permeating like dye upon the wool.

Are you washed in that “always seeking the negative first” point of view?
In this place there is no beauty that can come out of you.

When you’re disillusioned have you ever tried to cook, rearrange the furniture, paint?
Criticism is the blinder, the liar, the deceiver, the snake.

Practice seeing every single situation, person, even thing from a different place. Guide your mind to quiet and see then with your heart. Watch how you open, feel the emotion flow. That feeling of being “stuck?” Not some mystery but a state of being, initiated by you.

This is the good news. You have all the control.

Noticing beauty is a practice, a discipline, an art.
You are the artist. You hold the brush. Oh what a masterpiece your life can be when first you seek the beauty over every other thing.

NOTES:

I watch my son put his own son’s little shoes on. I feel his sense of frantic permeate the room. And yet there, just before me, are these ten perfect squishy toes. “Take a breath,” my heart inaudibly implores.
Too slow. Too late. Too much. Too hard.
The criticism of the moment steals the beauty of it all.

What do you hear when your mind speaks? Words of love and affirmation?
Or frustration, diminishment, disgust?
Now imagine, are these words directed at others, or yourself?

Beauty requires nourishment. A nourishment that comes from believing and seeing the best.
What will you notice today—
In the thoughts that direct you.
In the words you impart.
In the ones who are closest to you.
In the opinions prolific on your screen.

Will you feed that frustrated child with your attention and transfer to others that self-doubt?
Or will you allow the Spirit to teach you to see the world made more beautiful simply by a change in perspective, attitude, and belief?
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Sometimes we’re too close. We can’t see the thing that stops us from living the life we desire. That’s where I come in. We start with the interiors that have nothing to do with wallpaper and furniture. Together, we begin to train ourselves to recognize the quiet beauty in everything, inside and out.

Healing the spirit of criticism.
Learning to recognize the secret beauty in all that surrounds you, in what lies within.

If you are seeking the transformation in your spaces that begins with a change in you…I’m your guide.
Navigate to the page entitled, My Work/In Home Design or click here.
sanctuaryliving.life.

ABOUT THE IMAGE: It was a rainy November afternoon when we said goodbye to our home on the lake. Chilly. Gloomy. Not a lingering kind of day. There I was in my garden, surrounded by these dark copper hydrangeas with no leafs on the vine. What was once white and evidently thriving with life had seemingly lost its lustre. But that gorgeous deep Winter color enticed me to take a the second glance. I could have said, “oh how sad they are gone.” Instead, I grabbed the clippers from the box and took the lucky little clusters on a journey to our new home. Look how beautiful they are! Life in every phase IS beautiful. Let’s give the dried [even dead thing] new life.