Birds of Paradise

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We know beauty, don’t we? It’s well defined eyebrows, on fleek hair. Red carpet gowns, Insta influencers and Only Fans models. These days it can be the body proud avante garde, strutting their extra plus sized frames with no trace of timidity. It can be women who are genetically male and males who are genetically women. It can be older people, doing their thing. Not bowing to conventional views of decrepitude but living life how they want, wearing what they want. More and more, our world embraces inclusivity; models with vitiligo, albinism, amputations, hermaphroditism and many other variations.

This is progress. 

Isn’t it?

Is it?

‘What a piece of work is a man!” marveled Shakespeare’s Hamlet. “How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! … In action, how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! … The paragon of animals!’

One only has to view the latest celebrity pages in the tabloids to see the god complexes running riot. The pouting faces that say ‘I’m beautiful; aesthetically pleasing. Look at me…I earn far more money than you.’

And yet what ruin such viewpoints cause, when appearances, fame and wealth are all you have. All three attributes can disappear overnight. And even if they don’t, is that what we are meant to be, a pleasing portrait, couched in vanity for all to look and stare at? 

Our glossy magazines, social media pages and Tik Tok vids have caused untold damage. We have forgotten that we can be more than just preening birds of paradise, eager for those answering tweets. We…WE invented the wheel. WE landed on the moon. We are capable of reflective thought, creativity, personal growth, love and profoundness. 

We have lost touch with what we rightly are. 

It is time to take it back.

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