What is beauty?

What is beauty?
Since the beginning of time mankind has searched for it; in forms, large, small, concrete and abstract; it can pass through our lives and touch us fleetingly, it can be present every day, whether we notice it or not, and there are times in our lives where we feel it is eluding us or where we don’t wish to see it or feel it, because we are carrying a heavy burden, such as grief or sorrow.

It can be something as fleeting as a swan swimming on a lake in winter.
Beauty is a city; Roma and Paris and a reunified Berlin, complete with its painful reminders of its recent history. Of course beauty is Venice, La Serenissima, queen of the Adriatic.

Beauty is people, mankind.
It is a woman in her sixties, who has gathered about her an air of mystery that comes only with the passing of time or closeted secrets. I saw such a woman enter a restaurant in Milan, and every table turned to gaze at her; that was beauty.
It is a girl on the cusp of womanhood in love for the first time and the boy who finally finds the courage to smile at her.
I once saw a woman standing on the steps of the Jeu de Paume in Paris, no longer young, with lines on her face, lines of character and wisdom. She was dressed completely in elegant black save for a magnificent ruffled collar. She was surrounded by men, each competing for her attention. She was beautiful, whoever she was.
Beauty must be seeing the elusive cherry blossoms of Kyoto, and basking in the afterglow of making love, with a long time amore or an illicit, secret love.
Beauty is definitely the four legged furry creatures that fill our lives, watching a cat sleep and wondering what he or she might be dreaming of; watching your lover sleeping soundly and contentedly next to you.
Some beauty is on a grand, breathtaking scale, while something just as beautiful is a small gesture; the Sistine chapel and a child’s hand painting on butcher’s paper that was drawn just for you.

Small things can bring us a moment of beauty every day; a bowl of spaghetti sprinkled with pecorino, dark espresso coffee with a layer of crema, a bottle of Chianti that you are longing to open, a cup of herbal tea before bed that promises sweet dreams while you slumber.
Beautiful is the sight of a parent smothering their child with kisses.

Beauty could be (and should be) the bigger picture, things the world wishes for but remain elusive to mankind; a solid two state solution in the Middle East, human rights in China, humanity, peace and health in Africa, as I write this, aid and humanity are required on a grand scale in Haiti and Chile. The world needs cures for cancer and diabetes and motor neurone disease. Can beauty lie in the hope that such wishes may yet be fulfilled?

Beauty is a feeling or a memory that never leaves you. It is a love that passes through your life fleetingly and a deep love of a soul mate that lasts ever after.
It is the person you never thought of as a friend but who suddenly comes to your aid in a time of need and the friend who you knew always would.
It is the realization of the greatness of civilizations that existed before you, and that will come after you, knowing you are a small part of such a chain.
Beauty is performing a small act of kindness every day.

Beauty is a moment of self acceptance, when you finally like who stares back at you from the mirror. (Even if you hate them again tomorrow)

Sometimes, in that time of grief or sorrow, when you don’t wish to search for beauty, it finds you and lightens the burden, removes the load from a shoulders even if just for a moment, and then you know that life will go on. That is beauty.