Definition of Beauty

This week, People Magazine published a special double issue announcing the most beautiful women.  Apparently, THE most beautiful woman in the world is the actress Sandra Bullock.  I agree that she is, indeed, quite lovely.  I even like her movies.  I’m just not quite sure what criteria People Magazine uses to determine that she is THE MOST beautiful.  It is, after all, quite perplexing.I have nothing against People Magazine.  I have been known to buy an issue from time to time, especially when a member of the royal family appears royal.  I love the Academy Award attire and details on the latest Hollywood confession.  But really, do we need to determine “the most beautiful” woman?I know the fertile ground for show business fodder is found in either California or New York.  There, apparently, is where beauty lives.  I argue, however, that the folks of People need to take off their Hollywood sunglasses and come visit ordinary places of America, maybe take a drive across Interstate 70.  Therein lie the people who define real beauty.A newly bald woman sacrificing her hair in the fight to beat cancer manifests her beauty in the form of courage and determination.  Standing boldly in front of the mirror without the comfort of hair is audacious and gutsy.  I call that magnificence.  Recently I met a woman who has battled not only one, but two forms of cancer, and was able to sit across from me with a face lined with the creases that come from frequent laughter.  Her eyes betrayed joy even amidst her recurrent and tortuous journey.  Her beauty resonated.

A young pregnant mom blossoming from the growing child within is pure splendor. At the age of 35, after two painful miscarriages, the fact that her belly is expanding is gorgeous. Her joy rising literally cannot be contained. She wears her expansion with gratitude and delight. Chances are she will welcome the probable beauty of stretch marks and swollen ankles.

I remember when my mother lay dying. Her dentures removed from her proud mouth as she gasped for her last medication-eased breaths. Her hands betrayed the brown spots of aging, yellowed fingernails, and veins protruding from beneath her thin and translucent skin. As I brushed the grey hair from her forehead, I banked in my memory her beauty. To this day, my heart swells remembering the tenderness of her look.I know my cancer friend, pregnant women, or my mother will never make the cover of People magazine’s “most beautiful.” It’s a shame really. Sharing the scars, wrinkles and oversized ways of life are what connect us. There are many definitions of beauty amidst the real life along the corridors of our land. There is plenty of beauty to go around. It’s nothing against Sandra Bullock, or People Magazine. I just think I’ll skip this issue. Isn’t there a royal baby due soon?