Too often, we pull ourselves apart, seeing in our reflections a mosaic of discontent. We compare ourselves, compete, yet the starting and the ending point for each is vastly different. More than skin deep, beauty is a thing of wonder, of words, of intellect. The grace we bring to our work, the courage, the mess of gratitude, of sorrow, of moments, fills each of us differently. Why do we learn then, to make these shallow comparisons? Media pressing up against us from all sides, blurs our own internal voice, making us loose track of real depth, where it's found. In each of us, differently, wholly as we are.