Elegance?

What is elegance? How does one show elegance? Is elegance achievable?

Miriam Webster defines elegance as “A: refined grace or dignified propriety. B: tasteful richness of design or ornamentation, the sumptuous elegance of the furnishings. C: dignified gracefulness or restrained beauty of style, the essay is marked by lucidity, wit, and elegance. D: scientific precision, neatness, and simplicity, the elegance of a mathematical proof.”

And Wikipedia defines elegance as “beauty that shows unusual effectiveness and simplicity. It is frequently used as a standard of tastefulness particularly in the areas of visual design, decoration, the sciences, and the aesthetics of mathematics. Elegant things exhibit refined grace and dignified propriety.”

What is it about elegance that calls for me?

I think as I write tonight that elegance appeals to me due to its simplicity, its calm, it’s poise all showing a lack of chaos. Chaos is how I’ve often described my life, my thoughts, even myself. I’m a storm, a thundering mess of noise inside. So elegance speaks to me. A quiet, peaceful, graceful beauty to be attained. I want elegance to be how I describe myself: I want it to be how others describe me. “She is the elegant one.; the one there who has no fear, no care for things but who is always peaceful and happy.” That sounds good.

Being elegant would mean that I would be noticed for my calm rather than the storm that I’ve brought with me. Or maybe I will be the calm before the storm? Or the peace afterward?

It’s an interesting place to be. I love who I am becoming and I love helping others to find peace and sanctuary in my writing. Yet, I am the storm; the hurricane has been me. Can I be both? Can I be the fury when needed and the calm when necessary? Can I continue to be who I am while allowing others the room to be who they are meant to be? Chaos, after all, is still beautiful. Should I tame the chaos?

I know the chaos well now. I’ve marked its passage through my life and I am intimately familiar with it. But have I now mastered my chaos? Does it rule me no longer? It is still there. I can feel it sitting, waiting to pounce. But does it no longer have the control it once did? Have I made chaos my friend?

These are some of my thoughts tonight as I prepare for bed. I entertain the idea of elegance, such that, maybe I may attain it. Yet, now loving myself, I no longer fear my chaos, my personal storms that have made me this way. Shall I truly transition from fear to peace? Shall I stand taller, quieter now that my storms begin to pass? Shall I be elegant?

thank you for reading,

me

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