Thursday, 14 February 2013

Beautiful

I came across this quote by Gabourey Sidibe the other day… "One day I decided that I was beautiful, and so I carried out my life as if I was a beautiful girl." Cue over-analysis of my social mannerisms… Someone says, "Davita, you're beautiful"… "Davita, you look beautiful today"… and I dazzle them with my best "Aww gee, thanks" smile, but inside I feel uncomfortable. Contrary to popular belief, I don't feel uncomfortable because I don't think I'm beautiful or that I don't deserve to be called beautiful. I feel uncomfortable because at some level, I feel the compliment is unnecessary. Obviously, I put effort into looking good that day and I know I look good, but I don't want any attention drawn to the fact. Perhaps because I'd rather be recognized for my killer calculus abilities or my extremely odd and dramatic personality. Perhaps because I feel like it's a reminder of my own vanity. Who knows… 

But have you ever considered what life looks like when you live in the knowledge of your own beauty? I don't think it's an explosion of selfies or narcissistic photo shoots on social media (although I do rather enjoy both of us those). I think that knowledge of beauty is outpoured as love. Last week, I had one of my most un-beautiful weeks for a while, in terms of both my efforts to dress myself and my heart. Showering takes a lot of motivation, friends. Especially during a week of midterms. And out of nowhere, as I was dealing with situations and reflecting, my mood was anything but dark or ugly. I was laughing at dumb things, squealing at cute things, dancing to rhythmic things… My first thought… I can't possibly be this uplifted. It must be a mask. But no, it wasn't. Normally, I have no problem letting the world know just how grumpy I am. So, maybe my soul is far-sighted. It sees the beauty that's coming, the beauty in the small things that get lost in the moments of confusion and sadness… Or maybe it just recognizes that the things that really matter aren't really falling apart at all.

So, this Valentine's Day, whether you're single, in a relationship or a Martian (that should replace "It's complicated" as the third relationship status option on Facebook), don't be sad or disappointed. Be beautiful! Or stay beautiful, as my dear friend Taylor sings so sweetly. And do whatever you feel like doing if you don't have significant others to hang out with. Put a couple extra inches on your hips with your favourite ice cream flavour or favourite type of candy. Watch a romantic comedy and get irrationally involved in a fictional character's love life. Don't listen to the people who tell you these things are pathetic… They just wish they had the self-esteem to not worry about that tub of ice cream. Rah, rah, rah female empowerment! Or if you're tired and you have lots of crap due this week, go to bed early. Or browse a photography blog with lots of wedding photos on it. Wear your grossest, coziest clothing, not because you're a stereotype of a broken-hearted girl, but because you want to, gosh darn it. Embrace stereotypes and then blow everyone's mind by being content and beautiful and poised. Or cry ugly tears. No judgment here. 


If there's anything you learn in academia, you learn that knowledge of anything is haunted by ambiguity. Try making it through an university English course without discussing ambiguity (you won't or you may, but you'll fail the class). This reaction against determinism is scary as the established ways of knowing the world are melted from your brain, but it's also freeing. Freeing to know that the ambiguity of your mood and your future isn't weird or unusual. It's human. That's why I love literature, because you start to find beauty in the weirdest places because you learn to never disregard anything. Like pronouns… The Jennifer Hudson of the literary world. Under-appreciated at first glance, coming back to kick your butt with their Oscar-winning, ballad-killing soul. Okay, so like all of my analogies, it breaks down. But, seriously pronouns are radical. It took British Restoration Lit and pages and pages of 18th century poetry to convince me of their importance. So, don't disregard the pronouns in your own life. The things you have a weird affinity for or that prompt inspiration of heart and mind. They make you unexpectedly beautiful and radically ambiguous. 

Because stereotypes… Well we construct them because getting to know people and figuring them out is time-consuming and requires lots of emotional energy. I'm not condemning them wholeheartedly because yes, they do save time and energy. But, remember that they are a construct and that you have, therefore, no responsibility to live within them. If you want to live in a realm in which you make the rules, be my guest. Be an individual not because you're forcing what you think weird looks like on the world but because you just can't hide your weirdness.

You might ask why I'm preaching in the name of self-knowledge of beauty, seeing as today is the day on which we celebrate romantic love between two people, so "Davita, why are you not waxing eloquent on your ideals of love or raging against societal ideals of love?" Well, thank you, voice in my head, for that intriguing question… Well number one, been there, done that. Soooo last year! And number two, have you stopped to think recently about how you have been fearfully and wonderfully made by a great Creator God? If we're celebrating love, why can't I celebrate that love if I want to? My class is just as beautiful as my sass. So, deal, voice in my head. 

I desperately hope if you are a woman in this world that you have a daddy who tells you you're beautiful on a regular basis. Mine does. Sometimes, I retort with, "I know you think so, but I swear you're the only guy who does". It took me a long time to figure out that that might be okay. Not okay in the sense that all of your self-worth should stem from one person's opinion of you. But more in the sense that all you need for your self-worth is the kind of unconditional love and affirmation that stems from a deep understanding of God's love. So, more along the lines of "I love everything that's great and not so great about you because I created you and I'm freaking insane enough to love every piece of you, now what are you going to do about it?" 


Full circle. Live your life as a beautiful human being. Bring out the beauty in those around you. Recognize the beauty in the people around you. Do the things that inspire you and make you feel beautiful. Fight ugly even when it seems to dominate the lives of those around you. Wear your favourite scarf 5 out of 7 days of a week. Let he who has never committed this fashion misdemeanour throw the first judging glance. Let other people bring out the beauty in you. Step away from those that make you feel uglier, but keep fighting for their beauty. Get dressed up once in a while and celebrate the beauty that is your eyes, your smile, your hips… Accept compliments graciously even when you know that there's more to be celebrated than your pretty dress. 


I have a friend who told me one time about a couple weeks she spent in the Kenyan bush and what I remember most clearly from that conversation was the glow in her eyes when she described how dirty her feet were and the patterns left by the sandals she wore for the entire trip. I have another friend who makes me keel over with laughter because of her surprising wit and her surprising irreverence. I miss the twinkle in her eye everyday. I have another friend who has so much confidence in her life and her dreams that she glows in and out of her beloved spotlight. I have yet another friend who fights with everything she has against what I see as unsurmountable odds and loves every minute of it. I have another friend who dances with such abandon and passion that you could never tell she's an untrained white girl ;). Then, there's the friend with whom I learned to love delicious harmonies and, by hook or by crook, learned to love most of my life… I also have a friend who is so true to herself that I'm concerned the world will never love her or appreciate her like her loved ones do because of all its ignorance and prejudice.


And that's just the tip of the iceberg, a select few of the beautiful girls (and people) I've surrounded myself with in the past 18, almost 19 years. They're my role models, my inspirations and my strength for finding my own beauty. So, be beautiful and inspire beauty today. You were designed to live beautifully whether or not you have a beautiful life. And, enjoy your ice cream in the company of your favourite human being in a 5 mile radius. Happy Day of Beauty!

"All around; Hope is springing up from this old ground; Out of chaos life is being found in You. You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of the dust."

Sunday, 3 February 2013

Impertinent

I'm sick. I have this exotic disease called the flu. My immune system has dealt with its fair share of unhygienic food preparation and international-school incubated viruses, but a winter flu is a new one. Maybe next year, I'll be inspired to stick yet another needle into my arm. Thousands of third culture kids across the globe just shuddered. Tonight, however, cabin fever is setting in and my brother advised me to do what non-DesRoches rarely do: adventure. So, my pencil is like Lewis' wardrobe tonight.

I live in a constant state of wrong-ness. I'm like the colloquial bull in the china shop. Except I'm an elephant in a rural, Eastern Canadian shop. For example, in my Old Testament class, we were talking about Jonah and were asked who would be our personal Ninevites. The first thing that popped into my head was anyone who shares the socio-cultural context of my birth. I get stuck in this tug of war of frustration and insecurity. I can't tell you why but every bone in my body seems to be different enough from this place to result in my repeatedly screwing up social or cultural convention.

I desperately want to be back out in the great wide somewhere. France, Italy, China, India, Thailand, Australia. I want to learn, discover, taste, feel, see, smell, trip over cobblestones... Now that I'm back in the motherland, I'm finding myself less than inspired. Plus, this weather... My itchy, wandering feet are old, worn-out news.

Friday night, I started watching Zero Dark Thirty because I'm an awards season junkie. Plus, Jessica Chastain is my girl. After 20 minutes and a couple of vicious torture scenes, I couldn't handle it. When a movie is based on real events, it enters in an uncomfortably close dimension to your own life. So, I watched the endings of my favorite rom-coms instead.

My mom turned 50 a week or so ago. One of my favorite things about my mom is the way she fights back against the harsh realities of life by loving every dog, stray kitten, and students that wanders into her life. Every time she sees my brother or I after a long period of separation, her voices has this higher excited pitch. That's the kind of love that defies reality's agenda. My mom is everything I hope to be in many ways, but more importantly, she gives me the freedom and courage to try and grasp who I am.

Who I am is the kind of girl who tries to watch Zero Dark Thirty for its reputation as great art. How does this reflect on my cultural predicament? I can't say that I have any world-changing conclusions to make tonight. I like anecdotes. I like raising questions. I like revelling in some blog narcissism because the Internet is judgment free when you're low profile. So here are my questions, regularly thrown heavenward... Why am I uninspired and often unhappy? Why do I have the world's oddest conglomeration of abilities and areas of interest? Why do I get so much wrong? Why the heck did I get sick when I have SO MUCH to accomplish? Why is Canada so cold? Why does the human heart breed ignorance and prejudice? How does one begin to chip away at what's wrong with the world? How does one begin to chip away at what's wrong with our hearts? Why do I wake up in the morning and keep going about my routine even when it feels meaningless?

I wish life was like an Ellie Goulding song. Have you listened to "Anything Could Happen" yet? Her opening Oohs are just shy of euphoric. To me, that euphoria represents my understanding of the love of God. It's the best hook of them all. It lifts up the doom and gloom prophecy pre-Jesus and then changes the world in Jesus' lifetime. So, I can't tell if my wrong-ness is a sign that I need to learn humility and assimilate better or that I'm just pushing the boundaries enough to embrace the fulness and mystery of our Father's love.


"You swore and said... We are not... We are not shining stars... This I know... I never said we are... If you're lost and alone and you're sinking like a stone, Carry On. May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground, 
Carry On."