What's in a Face?

This was my cat.  He always had his face on.  I loved him deeply, but had to leave him behind when I moved four years ago to begin a new life.  

I miss the beautiful ugly of him.

There is a quote from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet that asks the question "What's in a name?" arguing the point that a name does not truly matter, but more so what something is in its content that is the substance.

My cat was a constant source of comfort and companionship.  That's what he was.

My youngest daughter and I would make up stories in strange Muppet voices, then act them out with my cat as the main character.  We could be entertained for hours!  (This obviously points to how desperate we were for a distraction, and found the cat to be the closest things to comic relief!).

I've recently finished a very interesting online course that defines your specific fashion preference based on various patterns and characteristics.  One of those definitions was actually the shape and structure of your face.  I found this concept both interesting and unnerving.  How could the structure and alignment of my face have anything to do with my apparel preference?

Then I thought about my cat.  The very beauty of him was his unique and specific face structure that defined his character and created a comic opportunity for us to enjoy him.

My food for thought brought me to my own face.

What do people see when they look at me?  What do I hide behind my eyes, what beauty of my character do I portray when I am smile or become pensive?  When I sit or stand, what message do I send?  Does my own face betray my heart and dim my light that should shine out to the world?

I noticed today as I went to get my nails done for my upcoming trip to Cuba, that they were running late for my appointment. Suddenly I found myself biting my lip and watching the clock when it became almost 20 minutes past due.  When I finally received a technician, I discovered the woman next to me was now bumped because I came first.  We chatted.  She was so friendly and accommodating.  I felt very chastised.  I wonder what she thought about me as I tapped my foot and watched the clock?  I wonder what she thought after we began to talk and I was all smiles and rainbows now that I was being attended to?

My true character showed through my facial expression, my body posture and my final relief in having my own needs met.  The moment was over, but what impression did I leave?  What grace did she show that I did not when she was left waiting?

As I look at my ex-cat (The one I left behind, the face I will never forget.  Maybe I should use the politically correct word, former-cat) I am reminded of the beautiful ugly we all can show in our unguarded moments.  I regret my impatience, but the lady next to me was very forgiving.  She carried a face of light and peace in the midst of change and neglect.  I did not.

What's in your face?

Until next time, and after Cuba, DJ