Of Midas and Men

There are people in Life who make the world better just by being in it. Those who beautify their surroundings by breathing; a Midas touch via an exhale. They blow their bits of gold about, leaving a veritable sheen on everyone they've come in contact with, leaving all feeling better about themselves and the setting they find themselves in. Hope in humanity hovers about the air. You know it when you meet them: It's as if light seeps through their multifaceted layers of authenticity. Suddenly they're the most interesting person you've ever met. (The fact that they are wearing a pin-striped suit only intensifies the intrigue). You want to know everything about them. Where they've been and where they're going and where did they get such a great looking suit? You want to sit and talk until sun-up and then go get breakfast. And, if you had your choice, breakfast would be followed by an early lunch, and, heck why not dinner while you're at it. You'd end the day exploring the shelves of an independent bookstore or local art gallery*.

So this outstandingly authentic person has entered the scene of your Life; a bonafide character in the plot. With their golden shoes they've waltzed in and stolen the show. And, in all their waltzing, they've left flecks of glitter on the black stage floor. This sheen, this residual residue makes you feel inadequate in a good way; an inspired way. You're unboxing art history books and brushing up on your Botticelli. You want to reach inside the files of your head at those history facts from college, the ones long-lost between invoices and weekend plans and the name of that fashion blog your roommate told you about. You want to explore. To study. To learn and re-learn. To start at the Genesis of the world and study the succession of the human ages. To know your Greek Mythology so in case he asks, you could reply that Midas is the son of Gordias and, if you're talking alchemy, (which you might) the process of turning something into gold is called chrysopoeia.

What of these potential heroes who sing Homeric Hymns, hum Copeland, and know the birthplace of Ben Harper?** These perfect partners for Trivial Pursuit. What to do with the good-as-gold guys in navy pinstripes and great ties? Truthfully, motivation should come from within. You shouldn't reach for your history of architecture notes just for a guy. Do it because you've forgotten the architect of Hardwick Hall and the story behind Christopher Wren and Inigo Jones. Study up. Read. Write. Challenge yourself, and, hopefully, between the lines of it all, you'll inspire someone else to do the same.


*(So maybe that's my perfect day with someone I find ridiculously and endlessly interesting. Yours may be hiking to the beloved Living Room in the foothills, driving to fish on the Provo River and making your own fire using flint and steel to roast those Rainbows. (Not the sandals.) Let's just say up-front, while I'm not totally against that, I've spent a lot more time with piles of books as high as my thighs than I have thigh-high in water, waiting for a bite.)

**L, that's a shout out to you and yours.