Why not make it beautiful?
A lyrical piece: An ordinary day, in Holy Communion
My choice to pursue beauty has often misunderstood as a sign of an easy life—
The truth is, my focus on beauty is deeply connected to my personal struggles. Seeking beauty isn’t about denying difficulty; rather, it’s about finding meaning amidst it. This choice is a conscious act of resistance against life’s harshness, a way to navigate my challenges with purpose and hope. Far from shielding me from hardship, or choosing escapism my pursuit of beauty is a response to hardship—a surrender to transform pain into something profound, something beautiful—Art.
“Many will bear witness to your joy, but few will know that battles you fight to keep it”
In honour of this new work I have been forming, I posed you a question here (earlier in the inquiry) and I was flooded generously with the language of your experiences…
What happens in your body when you witness beauty? I asked
I gathered a beautiful collection of words from the things that you said and it’s here, from this place, that this inquiry officially begins…
You said:
…An exhale, tears, feelings of warmth, an urge to participate, involuntary reaction—singing and dancing, goosebumps and deep breaths. A visceral experience, feelings of home and wholeness and purpose. Stillness and presence, tingling and softness. Peace and silence, language and dialogue that exists beyond words. An opening, a widening, spaciousness in the lungs. A need to behold it or capture it or grasp it, refreshment, renewing, fears fading. Closeness to God, overwhelming majesty, awe and wholeness.
With repetition, you said;
Wholeness.
Wholeness.
Wholeness.
When I see beauty, I am home. I feel whole.
In the lyrical piece below, I explore the shift from the childlike simplicity of my early prayer life at age four to the more complex years of seeking, over-explaining, and even denying true parts of myself for the sake of acceptance. Through this reflection, I uncover that, despite the complications and challenges, the essence of my faith journey remains both beautiful and profoundly simple.
This enduring simplicity is at the heart of why I choose beauty. For me, embracing beauty is not just an aesthetic preference but a profound response to life’s complexities and struggles.
It is a way to reconnect with that pure, childlike sense of wonder and communion that once came so naturally.
In choosing beauty, I commune with the truest, most honest voice I know—the still small voice that transforms struggle into something meaningful, something true.
Beauty, therefore, becomes not just a refuge but a vital expression of the deeper truths I’ve discovered along the way.
Beauty, a shoulder to shoulder companion moving with me through life’s struggles, rather than skipping over them.
“Why not make it beautiful?”
An ordinary day, in Holy Communion
By Tess Guinery
