even in decline, the day lily is stunning. even as it prepares to fall – its veined petals listing toward the ground, stamen curled and ready to release.

even in decline, it is beautiful, the bloom looking more like the wings of a butterfly than the petals of a vibrant lily, heralding summer.

even in decline, it participates in the garden, granting space to those blossoms that are just starting, buds that are just bursting, tiny green treasure chests on the stem just begging for attention.

even in decline.

my sweet momma – and i have told this story – used to tell me that she was astonished when she looked in the mirror. she would grab her red lipstick, carefully lining her lips, applying it, and would look at me – in horror – saying, “i look like an old woman!”

it was impossible to convince her – even as i insisted – that she was absolutely beautiful – which she was – those creases and lines in her face worn in by life, the sparkle in her blue eyes that never faded, the worry lines earned by worrying about those she loved. even in decline – her beauty in the mirror and in the world – was palpable, was real, was undeniable.

but i am beginning to get it. such an emphasis placed on youth – and how that manifests in our minds and hearts – the way aging reveals in our bodies vs the way youth looks on our bodies – it’s an insanity to think that static is the only way to see beauty. so now, when i look in the mirror, i – like millions of other women – are maybe measuring what we see, maybe counting the wrinkles, maybe frowning at the dynamic changes through which our individual lives are expressing in our bodies, maybe bemoaning what we are taught to think of as flaws.

instead, i just want to remember.

i want to remember how entirely gorgeous the daylily in our little garden – in all of its stages. how much i welcome every last dewy bud, blossom, gossamer-wing-petaled bloom, the dropping petals. how much joy it brings, this simple cycle of life, evidenced along the fence, not-so-flawed.

it would seem that i should grant myself the same grace i grant the daylily.

it would seem that as each day unfurls into the next i am – indeed – learning that it is ever more beautiful than the last.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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