So much focus today is on making sure we, especially women, keep our youthful appearance. More and more we look into the mirror and mourn the dew-kissed cheeks and fresh young smile of yesteryear. We fear growing old. My mother told me in her last days, “Don’t ever let your hair go gray. People will treat you like you are old.” That says a lot about how we view age in our culture.
Just the other day, I came upon a Keeping Up With the Kardashian’s show, where the matriarch, Kris Jenner, said the older she gets the more matronly she feels. I watched as she visited a famous plastic surgeon, who critiqued her face and body, and then promised to make her look younger. What will eventually happen is that even with the changes, age eventually wins the race.
I remember seeing my grandmother’s face the year before she died at the age of 85. It was porcelain and soft, with gentle wrinkles. They were wrinkles of age, but she was beautiful. She had always cared for her skin, and I asked for her secret. She smiled and laughed, flattered, and said, “I’ve always used Oil of Olay.” Behind that smile and laugh, I knew it was more. My grandmother radiated goodness. She was a deeply religious woman who believed in walking her talk. In fact, she talked little about it, and lived it out loud. She helped others, taking them meals and offering companionship. She believed in being a good neighbor, giving away vegetables from her garden and spending time catching up on everyone’s news. She didn’t have any fancy degrees and had never lived a life of luxury. She wouldn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her, though. She had everything she needed and more. People were the center of her life.
When I stand in line at the grocery store today, I see the “How they really look!” headlines, where photographers have caught the once beautiful with their hair down, so to speak. What I notice is not the soft aged skin like my grandmother’s, but skin that looks like its owner has been a burn victim. It has been peeled and scraped in the attempt to unearth yesterday’s beauty. Without makeup its owner looks unnatural and even frightening. So in the attempt to hang on to youth and beauty, the ticking clock becomes the enemy, and the newest way to “stay young” becomes the Holy Grail.
The question becomes, why was my grandmother so beautiful when she never had a chemical peel or Botox? The answer lies within. As Coco Chanel is famous for saying, “Nature gives you the face you have at twenty. Life shapes the face you have at thirty. But at fifty you get the face you deserve.” The beauty that women, and some men, are reaching for these days is never lasting. The body cannot stand up to time. The soul, on the other hand, never ages. As the body begins to fade, the spirit within begins to come through. Fear is ugly, and the fear of aging is no exception. Love is beautiful, and no matter how wrinkled and crooked the exterior, love shines through. My grandmother’s faith never included fearing aging or death. Sure, she put on face cream, wore makeup to church, and bought a new dress from time to time. Her beauty, however, was a light that came from her soul.
My new beauty regimen now begins with inner work. Every time I see an ad for a new cosmetic procedure that promises the fountain of youth, I will remember that not only is my essence eternal, it never ages. I’ll still put cream on my face before I go to bed, and wear makeup, and even buy something pretty to wear, but compassion, kindness and love will by my daily three step beauty routine.
photo credit:
photo credit:
Bester, Francois. "Woman." Flickr. Yahoo!, 14 Aug. 2007. Web. 07 Feb. 2015.
