Beautiful

“Make me beautiful,” the prettiest of Tao’s students asked the Tao.

“But you are beautiful,” said the Tao.

“No. I am not. I am too fat. There are shadows on my face. My eyes look dazed. I hate my hips. My breasts are too big. I feel ugly,” She was on the verge of tears.

“Ok. Let me see what I can do,” said the Tao. He waved his hands around. There were smoke and mirrors. There were flashes of light, and the ugly shadows ran for cover. The Tao’s voice, chanting “f2.8, 1/125, catch-light, depth-of-field”, was heard above the din. She stood there, uneasy, unblinking, motionless, through all the drama. When the smoke cleared, there she was. She was not fat. Her face glowed. The eyes sparkled. She loved her hips. Her breasts were just right. She felt beautiful.

“I feel beautiful,” the student gushed, “Thank you, O Tao.”

“Believe me, you are just the same,” said the Tao, “What has changed is that now you also have a beautiful self-image.”

“Whatever!” said the student, “Just do it again!”