In Greek philosophy and later in the medieval philosophies of Thomas Aquinas and others, the ideals of beauty, truth, and goodness – as well as unity, or oneness – were known as the ultimate properties of being, the things that are true about the world beyond the material.
Beauty, truth, and goodness were seen not as subjective decisions or perceptions, but as ultimate, well, truths. They just were. Today, we have lost much of that certainty about these ideals. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Goodness depends on circumstances. And truth…. well, there could be a whole lecture series built around that one.
But what if actually both perspectives of these ideals are right? What if there is an ultimate, dare I say divine, beauty as well as the reality of beauty depending very much on the observer? What if those two are just different dimensions, so to speak, of the same thing?
There is Rumi’s parable of the elephant: in a dark room, several men are presented with an animal they have never seen. Using only their hands, they each define the animal by what they can immediately perceive. One thinks it’s like a pillar, another thinks it’s like a fan, a third understands it as a water pipe, and a fourth as a throne.
What if our experience of beauty – or truth or goodness – is like that? What if each of us, when we see something we consider beautiful, sees only a part of the thing; and by identifying it as beautiful, we describe a part of its essence that is beauty? What if another person who doesn’t understand this same thing as beautiful simply sees another part of its essence, maybe that which is dangerous or dark?
And why, you may ask, does this even matter?
To me, this matters to me for two reasons:
- If there is something inherently beautiful, good, and true in the essence of most things – if not of everything – then this includes me and every other human being and living being, etc. And if that is so, then it would encourage me to look for that, to be open and patient toward myself and others. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I would not also be open to seeing the darkness and lies that may be there. But it seems to me that there is a potential for more compassion and care for oneself and for others in this concept of some inherent beauty, truth, and goodness.
- If goodness, truth, and beauty are indeed part of the essence of (almost) everything, then it stands to argue that one can learn to perceive these ultimate properties. Learning to look at the world through the lens of what is true, good, and beautiful – and to what degree – sounds like a worthwhile endeavour, especially in our times. It would require us to look deeper than the surface of people and things. It would ask us to pay attention to details, and maybe most importantly, it would require us to get in touch with our own essence, so that we can look beyond our prejudices and defences.
On a more immediate level, I have found this concept to be helpful when I — or my clients — need to change perspective, when we need to lift our eyes from the drudgery of our lives to something more life-giving.
Most people have heard of gratitude journals. I have found those to be difficult for some clients, especially if they are facing deep depression, loss, or uncertainty. Instead, I often suggest that those clients find three things a day that are beautiful, true, or good—without judgement, just what is speaking to (or from) the heart: a smile in another person’s face, an oil film on a puddle, someone helping another person, a bird on a nest, a line in a book, a thought they have.
Those things are outside the person and therefore sometimes more easily accessible. But if it is true that we all have a part of our essence that is beauty, truth, and goodness, then, by focusing on those things outside ourselves, we are also giving energy to them in us. And so, two things are beginning to heal: our view of the world we live in, and the pain that kept us away from that essence in us.
Try it. It doesn’t matter if you are feeling good or bad when you start. All that matters is trying: looking around with the intent to find something true, beautiful, or good. It shifts something, that intent. Let it.
Photo by Sabine Cox with some AI clean-up.