Every Friday morning Liv and I go out for donuts. The boy who waits on us is undeniably beautiful. "Such a pretty boy," we say. A few weeks ago Liv said, "I think I know what makes him so pretty."
"Yeah. It's his eyes."
"I guess he does have pretty eyes."
"Not so much that," she added, furrowing her brow in thought, "It's that his eyes don't match the rest of him."
As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. Indeed, that was it. His skin tone and hair color don't match his eyes. His eyes are unexpected. They throw you off balance. In that wobbly place before you find your bearings lies beauty.
I realized that most of the people I like and all of the people I love have that same effect on me. Not so much through their physical appearance, but something. Something doesn't fit, something is just off balance and that is intriguing.
One of my Mother's Day gifts was a pair of red chucks. Liv told me that when they were shopping for them, "Daddy and Lea wanted to get black or gray or white because they go with everything but I said, 'Mommy doesn't go with everything.'"
Indeed I do not.
I don't know that I've ever received a compliment that pleased me more.
Go find beauty in unexpected places today. If you are so inclined, you could start at the donut shop.