Flannery O’Connor, the great 20th-century novelist, has a great quotation–said, I am sure, with a perfect, sophisticated, playful smirk:
“There’s many a bestseller that could have been prevented by a good teacher.”
I love this—unbelievably much.
Our world is full of “bestsellers” in every category of culture and life. Some of them are good and deserving of the attention they get. Most aren’t.
Unfortunately, most of us are trained throughout our lives, particularly in the instant gratification culture that constantly feeds us with stimulation, to respond only to what is easily consumed. We only want what requires nothing of us in return.
This is a disaster for those of us who crave a truly beautiful life. It makes it so we never get beyond the “candy” in our lives to the very best things, or even to just the really good things.
This disaster status applies to everything: art, music, books, education, gardening, but most importantly, our relationships.
Today I want to get us past functioning in the lowest common denominator category and on to better things. This article is for anyone who wants more. This article is for you.
Nuance is Everything
Nuance is the component that makes anything great. Nuance, however, also takes effort on the part of the observer in order to have its proper effect.
Without nuance, things are trite—the heart of what makes many “bestsellers” painful to the beauty-seeker. The heights of beauty and excellence only happen in the context of nuance and detail.
I remember a teacher of mine once said that a true poet agonizes over every single word, and this changed things for me. Every word matters. Every brushstroke matters. Every lyric, every section of melody—matters. The exact frame chosen for a scene in a movie? It matters.
But nuance and detail, and the subsequent quality of greatness and beauty, are gifts only for those who are willing to look a little deeper. It’s for those who are willing to take time with things worthy of their time, and to be trained in new ways to see what is worth seeing.
I once spent 6 hours over a couple of days with Michaelangelo’s Pieta while aimless tourists swarmed by, snapping photos without ever directly looking at the sculpture—they only saw it on the screen through the lens. This was one of the most beautiful and yet also most tragedy-tainted experiences of my life.
(I kept wondering if it was morally incumbent upon me to introduce them to Google so they could save on airfare in the future.)
When we approach great works with the same attitude and attention span that we have for a Buzzfeed list, we are cultivating a culture where there is no more room for our Michaelangelos to emerge. We have to learn this is the long-term consequence of our neglect to really see.
Instead, we have to fight our lethargy and give time and attention to the things that deserve it. This stretches our capacity to see and appreciate beauty, and it plants the small cultural seeds in us that eventually grow into more great and beautiful things in the world.
Curiosity and Wonder
It’s essential to note, however, that while conscious training and learning is certainly an asset to developing a taste for nuanced beauty in life, the most important thing is a willingness to be a humble observer with a capacity for reverence.
Pride in quality does not equal true sophistication or true appreciation of beauty and goodness. The humble and contemplative observer in time comes to experience the truth and beauty of an artistic work much more profoundly that the stuffy intellectual who likes it on mere principle.
The observing and appreciating itself is an education, as well as a re-cultivating of the child-like wonder and curiosity that is our birthright before it often gets stamped out. And this is in reach for everyone.
Consciously developing a taste for real beauty, goodness, excellence, and nuanced expressions of pain, love, and truth often takes work. But more than anything, it takes a humble and contemplative spirit—someone who retains the capacity to see and reflect and really take things in, someone who isn’t in a constant rush and looking for that cheap next thrill. We can all be thoughtful observers and therefore give life to the really, deeply beautiful things that are fighting to grow around us.
Nuance in Relationships
Far and above novels and paintings, although not ultimately disconnected, the getting-beyond-the-candy-and-bestsellers is most urgent for our relationships.
If we are simply scouring the world, consciously or unconsciously, for the person-equivalent of a plastic mass-produced bestseller, we will find that truly beautiful and lasting relationships elude us. Real love, like real beauty, is only possible when we can see the utter unique goodness and nuance of the person. That takes a willingness to see and a capacity to wonder–something we can and should practice in the whole of our lives so it translates more easily into our relationships.
If we are holding up the people we love or want to love to a standard of instant gratification and perfection which demands nothing of us in terms of consciously wondering at and really seeing, we will never find the capacity in ourselves to dive into the deep and exciting waters of mystery that is each person.
And that mystery is where the magic happens. Real love is ultimately irreplaceable, because real love sees the aspects of the person that are irreplaceable, and then there is also no possibility of competition. Each person is seen as distinctly and uniquely valuable.
The best things and people aren’t repeatable or cheap, or easily gained and appreciated. The people we love are much better seen analogously as custom-made woodworking or Grandma’s delicate quilting, put together with personal love and attention–an absolute privilege to have as our own.
Don’t Get Carried Away
Now, don’t get me wrong in all of this: when I gave up processed sugar for a long season at one point for health reasons, the one thing I missed most was not decadent chocolate cake with nuanced overtones of raspberry and brandy. It was candy—the cheap, chewy, sour kind I grew up buying at the corner store. (Seriously, for all my nutritional preaching, I love that stuff to the point of embarrassment.)
We all need simple and easily accessible things once in a while. Being overly-serious and proud in our perceived sophistication is one of the worst, life-sucking things we can be. It’s a delicate balance.
So enjoy the candy. Relish it.
Just don’t make it anywhere close to your survival diet—really or analogously. Look for the good stuff. And then look even harder. It’s worth it.
Today’s assignment? Take 5 minutes right now to wonder at the nuance of something or someone you love. Focus on one thing, and just really take it in.
Xx,
Kay