When I get close to someone or something, I can see both the beauty and the flaws—they are inextricably intertwined. As I approach a resplendent rhododendron bloom to spy on a fly, I see the flower’s iridescent petals are marred with tiny brown spots.
A lily-of-the-valley shrub that looks unblemished from afar reveals small imperfections on its waxy white bells when seen up close.
Curled pink tongues of grevillea have shooting spathes, but one is broken. Miniscule blooms arising from juicy, succulent leaves have dead gray matter scattered between them.
The edges of a coral lily are slightly ragged and display whitish dots of lost color. A busy bee collects pollen from fresh bursts of blooms—but others held upon the same panicle are withered.
Oh, there’s a flawless fuchsia camellia! No…one of its petals has been crushed. The white one is yellowing and puckered along its perimeter.
An oxalis and magnolia fare no better: perfection just out of reach.
Every flaw gives the blossom its individuality, otherwise each would look exactly the same. The “Wabi-sabi” in each of us—a kind of aesthetic of imperfection—attracts others just as much as our beauty does. Why not revel in every little bit of who we are? Surely God does.
All photos © Sondra Sula.
Sondra Sula's Blog: The Nature of Spirituality 