Whenever I go to my friend Susan’s house, I see a quote that says, “Blessed are the cracked, for they let the light in.”
I think it’s true. The most vulnerable parts of ourselves, the places where we are the most tender, afraid, cracked, broken and messy, are the parts that make us the most human and endear us to one another.
A friend and I were chatting about aging today, how in our thirties we are seeing subtle signs, not recognizing ourself in pictures anymore, feeling puffy and lacking symmetry, chipping teeth and considering makeup for the first time since junior high school.
We know this is wrong, completely unevolved and downright vain. We both believe wholeheartedly in loving ourselves every step of the way. In theory. We love the cracks in others but have a hard time extending the same kindness to ourselves.
And yet, when I’m out taking photos, I effortlessly find beauty in those hidden, messy, discarded places.