The end table is large enough for four people, plain, but my eyes are drawn to the edge that has come unglued. It makes the table unsightly. I sit there anyway and place my things on its surface. I keep staring at the unruly edge. I am almost ashamed of it - a table that no longer looks good.
Is that what happens to people? We no longer fit the “norm” – the accepted standards our society has imposed. We get older, our appearance changes, and we become undesirable.
The table is solid, it supports all my stuff. Why do I care about its appearance? My friend is coming and I know she will notice the detached metal edge. I want everything to look perfect but life is not like that. What sticks out gets our attention.
We all want to create a good impression. Yet what we admire about others usually goes much deeper than the way they look.