Beauty, Pride, and Independence

This morning I was thinking about beauty, pride, and independence. On independence day, I greeted my brand new grand-nephew remarking what a beautiful baby he was. His parents were beaming with pride and rightly so.  Maybe the cuteness, adorable factor helps parents take care of their young. Whatever the case, though beautiful, this baby is completely helpless as he begins his journey of independence.   In the natural world, beauty can sometimes be a way of attracting attention from potential mates to come closer or to warn predators to stay away.  While exploring the surprisingly (to me) beautiful streets of San Pedro, my daughter and I saw a random peacock in the middle of the road. We tried to snap a picture but he scurried away from us.  I love the beautiful multi-colored peacock feathers.  I also think I might not be the only one who enjoys strutting around like a peacock when I think I look good. Though being "proud as a peacock"can refer to vanity and being self-absorbed, pride also refers to my unwillingness to bend my will, even if it's in my own best interest. Like my scurrying feathered friend; perhaps I think if someone gets too close I might get hurt; they might "catch me" and limit my freedom in some way.  So I continue to look after myself-be independent and survive.

My great aunts are great at surviving.  All in their 90's it was my pleasure to observe their interactions this past 4th of July at our family get together. I joined my sister and cousin in making sure they were picked up and delivered safety to their homes.  This was no easy feat, considering their ages, 4th of July LA traffic, and their own resistance when receiving help.  Aunt Jean, the one the family refers to as "the pretty one" is the most determined to do things independently. Growing up I remember people being drawn to her vibrant good looks, impeccable packaging-hair, make-up, clothes, and friendly demeanor.  As such, she always attracted the men. It was fun to learn about her past exploits and her realization of being a "city girl" when planting herself firmly her patch of sand on the So. Cal coastline. I also learned she sold furs at a upscale department store for many years.  I could easily imagine her helping other women feel beautiful and worth a million bucks so they could all strut around as peacocks. As we were dropping her off at her beachfront condo, my sister, a nurse, started to help her out of the car.  Aunt Jean grimaced and barked out "I'll do it myself!" and batted Kathy away. This was definitely no surprise as she continues to refuse help even when she needs it-desperately. Her younger sister (age 92) complains about her sister's uncleanliness,  her efforts to conceal it from everyone, and her determination to keep living independently and keep some thread of personal pride.  She still tries hard to keep up appearances though her vulnerability is a concern for all of us.

I contrast this to my brother's own vulnerability and his willingness to receive help while getting ready for the family party.  He let me help clean up and ease some of the stress.  I was privy to the property's uncleanliness and his thorough way and routine of keeping up appearances. Everyone wants things to be beautiful, especially if a bunch of people are coming over. It was a privilege to see a different side of my brother and my sister in law-a behind the scenes view.  In order to let someone help us clean up, we have to be willing for others to see our muck.  We can't just cover it up with a rug and call it good as reported by my loving Aunt Aggie as she talked about her sister's apartment.  My brother  allowed me to see him up close and as a result I felt closer to him and his sweet wife.

If I want to be close to my Father in Heaven, I have to allow him to see my muck-can't hide it anyway. I want to recognize and confess my uncleanliness in order to make necessary changes.  I want to be willing to let him help-embrace the grace. I can't clean myself up on my own since "no unclean thing can enter into his kingdom"  Moroni tells us, "if ye by the grace of God are perfect in Christ, and deny not his power, then are ye sanctified in Christ by the grace of God, through the shedding of the blood of Christ, which is in the covenant of the Father unto the remission of your sins that ye become holy without spot." Beauty is part of the gospel-why else would he command Zion to "put on thy beautiful garments." I am certain the beauty of this garment far surpasses the beautiful women in fur coats or proud peacock feathers.  I might not be proudly strutting around but I will be independent with power to move freely about.