Perfection

I have roaming eyes. I admit it. Many men pretend that their eyes are only for their wives or girlfriends, but don't believe that, even for a minute. It just ain't so. When a pretty girl or a beautiful woman walk by, men will look. Looking is harmless. Not leering, mind you, just looking. Leering is definitely without class. A discreet look is something quite different.

I am fascinated by people. Men, women, children, old-timers, youngsters, babies, short, tall, fat, skinny, ugly and beautiful. I am interested by how they wear their skin, how comfortable they are with themselves, how natural or how affected they act. Sometimes, a few times in a lifetime, someone will make such an impression on us that we remember the occasion for decades afterwards. Today was such a time for me.

As I drove to work this morning, I noticed from afar a slender female walking along the street. She had an easy, almost gliding gait, and that alone held my attention as I neared her. As I got closer, I noticed that she was beautiful, with a fresh, open face, blonde hair pulled back, and a tiny smile on her lips. She wasn't smiling for anyone else. She was smiling because she was happy in her skin, fully comfortable with herself, completely unselfconscious and without affectation. She liked herself.

It is so rare to see someone like this. The woman could easily have strutted about with an irritating arrogance, worn clothes several sizes smaller to hug her curves, a shorter skirt to highlight her legs, a low-cut blouse to display her bosom. Instead, she let herself define her clothing rather than have the clothing define her. An inappropriate frame can spoil a masterpiece, and this woman understood that.

It was a perfect morning, sunny and warm. I saw a perfect vision, with a sunny smile and, (I think) a warm heart. It is now a perfect day, no matter what else is going on around me.

Thank you, unknown woman. Don't change. Don't become a vacuous vessel, a shrill shrew or worse. Be perfect. Show the world that perfection does exist.

I'll be watching. Maybe I'll catch a fleeting glimpse of her again.