Now I know why Mama used to say “take your time to grow up!” I dare not title this post “On Aging” because that would sound so common. Everyone ages. Big deal. That, in and of itself, is not revolutionary. Plus it just sounds boring, scary, recycled, and oh so…old!
More recently, I’ve become amazed by the less-than seismic shifts taking place as I mature in this Life; the very faint, but visible crow’s feet, the laugh lines even when I’m not friggin’ laughing, the now-thinner skin on the bridge of my nose, the occasional desire for some of my baggage to fly South though I myself am not traveling, the more-difficult-to-moisturize skin on the soles of my feet (though it can be argued that this is more due to the drier, harsher winters of the Midwest), and the appearance of more freckles in more places than I’d care to admit! Oh, and how did I miss the honorable mention of a few strays of gray in my crown?
I’m compelled to take notice and pay even closer attention as my body dabbles in this phase of maturation. Let me first say that for the most part, I do take care of myself, though I can benefit from more sleep. I exercise regularly, dance like no one’s watching, have struck a somewhat healthy balance between self-control and indulgence, and have developed an amazing comfort level with my body image/aesthetic as I’ve gotten older. I like what I see, y’all!
The one thing I know I can do is eat better. Sometimes, I get this creepy sensation that I am antioxidant-deprived, or under-nourished in the vitamin and supplement department. There are days when I get enough fruits and vegetables, and then there are those other days when I want nothing but carbs – the simple ones. Think simple, think stupid, right? (The use of mnemonics to remember stuff as you get older, or perhaps as your plate gets fuller, doesn’t hurt, on occasion.) These days, I can’t even get that straight. Wasn’t it “keep it simple, stupid?,” I think, as I reach for that oatmeal raisin cookie. What.Ever! I thought I had this part of the game – eating right, that is – down pat, but apparently I have work to do there. I’ll blame maturing hormones for sending my metabolism into a frenetic tailspin. There, I said it! It’s not my fault.
While I hate fessing up to a lackluster performance in the food category, I will say that I have this amazing physical commitment to keeping my body strong, supple, and lean (in most places), so that it endures for as long as I need to use it. I am adamant about engaging it on a regular basis because I want it to pay me back with resilience, performance, and a superb power to take me through physical and mental changes alike. Though my body continues to challenge me as of lately with its slower-than-usual recovery (perhaps fueling it with the right foods would help?), I love how it responds to a challenge, and how that, in turn, fuels me mentally. Ah, so is this what they call the “Body Beautiful”?
I now find myself quietly admiring the wisdom behind those bright eyes cradled by fine lines and slowly emerging crows feet; beholding the discernment that living and twitching my nose has brought me thus far (hence the finer skin on top my nose); and, honoring the brutal heat of the less-than-sunny moments that I’ve lived, courtesy of my freckled shoulders. Every semblance of this process of maturation, in and of itself, is part of my story. Unlike a tattoo or body piercing, each one is hard-earned, like the scars of giving birth via Caesarean section. I am humbled by how this body has carried me through and over, repeatedly, so I dare not dismiss its prowess, or abandon its care. It sustains me, and gives me joy when it gets all prettified and dolled up, or when it simply warms my soul. It needs me, so I will cradle it – all of it. I will respect its gracefulness, poise, dogged strength and agility, as well as its ability to stand at attention with me, and in spite of me at all times.
I will respect it and honor it because now, more than ever, it’s inclined to do things that I couldn’t do ten years ago, let alone want to do! (Go body, go body, go!) So I’m cradling that bad boy, and caring for it as I would a new baby, as if its been reborn somehow – taking care of it, loving it, remarking at it, and appreciating it. I intend to keep it beautiful, vibrant, and yes, sexy!
Life As An Art Form 