Friday, August 17, 2007

At the Café

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.

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