I have come to a calm acceptance about aging, body image and worrying about what others think. My underlying belief is kindness, a genuine smile and pleasant demeanor go a lot further than the way a person looks.
My aunt started nudging me into this way of thinking many years ago. I was coloring my hair at the time and she knew it. "Why do people color their hair?" she would ask. Time and time again. I defended my position with the response "I want to feel okay with the reflection in my mirror"; "Once you start coloring your hair, it becomes about dealing with the roots" and several other variations of the same answer. To which she would reply, "You still look OLD, you know"; "Black hair and a wrinkled face don't fool anyone"; "Nobody else cares" and several variations of her own responses would follow.
We had this conversation on repeat for many years. Then the pandemic and self isolation recommendations gave me the courage to forge through the uncomfortable phase of dealing with my roots as they grew out. A year later, I was completely "natural" and my hair was the color God intended. My aunt complimented my hair color time and time and time again. Yes, letting go of the facade was the right way to go.
Then came the weight gain.
I lamented that I was fine with the extra poundage but I wished my clothes would grow right along with me. Weekends became my favorite days because I could wear my black pajama bottoms all day, feel dressed and be comfortable. Wearing actual clothes was something I dreaded as much as Monday mornings. Discomfort in every form of the word. I felt awful in my skin and worse in my clothes. Thank goodness I was comfortable in my natural hair color.
Budgeting has always been a priority in my little world. While others may go on a diet, I would go on a budget. I couldn't afford a new wardrobe so I had to be able to fit into my existing clothes. This strategy worked for six decades then something changed. I want to believe it is just a tumor that has extended my waistline to great lengths but that doesn't explain the excess on my legs and rear view. Maybe it's a glandular thing ...
Enough was enough. I finally succumbed to spending some of my hard earned money on clothes that actually fit. Value Village to the rescue!
It was easy to cull through the clothes I don't wear or no longer fit, so I had a donation of clothing which rewarded me with 20% off of my purchases. I came home with two pair of capris; two tops; two pajama bottoms (yes, even my pj's are tight!!); and one pajama top for $36.29 (add my current credit card which is paying 5% cash back on all purchases for the first three months and that is a further $2.88 in savings).
I couldn't wait to get dressed the next morning. As I stepped into my proper fitting clothes, it was as comfortable as wearing my pajamas! The wave of excitement that rippled through my being was palpable. It felt good to be dressed again!
I'm not quite sure I have the same acceptance with the reflection in my mirror. My aunt no longer comments on my appearance, so I fall back to her default response "No one else cares" to appease my concerns. Mom would care ...
In the meantime, I am reveling in the fact that Tuesday is 30% off for ages 60+ at Value Village. So I topped up my new wardrobe with a few more items. For a grand total of $44.20, I have updated my wardrobe with these items:
My size has doubled since I was "in my prime" but I'm movin' on up the only way I know how. Bargains all the way, baby!
Further to my post yesterday, when I thought I should take up smoking to force me to be still outside and simply take a nature break, I savored my second cup of coffee outside this morning.
It was already hot, so I found a shady spot and let my legs spill out into the sunlight. A robin was chirping and encouraging me to come out and play. It was a very convincing song. I enjoyed every note.
I sat still. I listened. I watched the birds (mostly sparrows, I think) disappear into our lawn. I spotted a bird using the bird house. I wondered what it must be like to be a bird. I have lived a lifetime of living pay cheque to pay cheque. How different is it to be a bird who lives from meal to meal, with seasonal nesting requirements and keeping safe from danger EVERY day of the year?
I scanned the blue sky to find a jet stream in the distance. Where had that plane been? Where was it going? Who was on board? Were they travelling for business? Pleasure? A family emergency? So many stories within that little speck in the sky.
I was grateful for our maintained lawn. Several weeks of a disabled lawnmower helped me appreciate the much dreaded task of tending to a lawn during the spring growing season. The lawn needs a fresh cut again, but the dandelions have been tamed and we have a lawnmower that will tend to the task. Oh, how fortunate we are!
Mom's wind chime was still. I gazed at it, remembering times when I felt that chime speak to me on a windless day. I willed it to speak to me this morning but it didn't have anything to say.
Thoughts of Mom and Dad, of those who no longer walk on this earth and recent conversations I have listened to that spoke to the fact of how one lives on after they stop breathing. Without getting all spiritual or whimsical, there is an undeniable truth to those words. I feel Mom's essence within me all the time. I speak and I hear her words come out of my mouth. I hear Dad's wisdom chime in when it comes to that which he taught me or conversations we had. I think of those who are alive and well, and the way they live within me when they are out of sight. Chance encounters with strangers that make a lasting impression.
I was sitting outside by myself. But I was not alone.
Breathing in the moment without distraction was the best gift we can give ourselves. Take some time to deeply inhale today. Exhale and do your best to let go of the toxins within. It can't hurt and maybe, just maybe it will help just a bit.
Many mornings, while I am making my first cup of coffee, I gaze out of our kitchen window and see our neighbor on their front doorstep having a morning cigarette. She is doing nothing else. She is simply outside, gazing into space or nature or checking out the weeds in the flower garden for all I know. She is still. She is outside. She is smoking.
It is a serene sight. It makes me want to smoke.
There are a lot of pros to this idea:
I have stepped back from writing until I could refocus and see life through a different lens. Is it a coincidence that I started spotting joy after an eye appointment yesterday? Are my new glasses helping me see everything better? Perhaps ...
I didn't get my new (replacement) specs until the end of my eye appointment, which was followed by a dentist appointment a few hours later.
After turning the ringer off on my phone, I purposely looked up. I watched and listened to my surroundings.
The first thing I focused on was a family of three - a mom and three children. One makes a lot of assumptions when people watching and I found myself believing these three were siblings and the adult was the mom. What I saw, was three children simply being themselves.
The oldest hovered in the toy/book area with the youngest. The youngest was captivated by the books. Putting one away before pulling out another, sitting at the child sized table and taking in all there was to see within the pages. No hurry. Simple enjoyment. The middle child sat on the mother's knee.
Each child was content in the moment they were in. The child who appeared to need the closeness of a parent was not being forced to join the others, go play or even be any further away from comfort than they needed to be. The oldest was not engaged in an active caregiver roll. My impression was that the oldest was kind of grateful for a younger sibling which gave them the excuse to play with the toys. The youngest was content in their independence, yet secure in the knowledge they were not alone. Siblings, comfort and safety was an arm's length away.
Bliss. Pure bliss. To watch a young family simply "be" together.
Meanwhile, other patients were checking in and I simply sat back and absorbed the light rapport and kindnesses that were volleyed back and forth between patients and receptionists. Good manners, good humor, gentle words lightly seasoned with laughter.
It was nothing. But it was everything.
The past three years, I have ventured out of the house as little as possible. When I did leave the security of home, I was armed with a face mask, hand sanitizer and a very healthy dose of physical distance between those inhabiting the same space. Many others wore similar armor.
We can witness people's smiles again. Children can play with toys and books in a public space. The underlying fear of exposure to a force we could not see but was evidenced all around us has abated.
As I sat back and simply inhaled the moments watching people be people, I refocused on the joy of simple pleasures. People being people. Together.
When we isolate ourselves and our main source of information is the news and news feeds we invite into our existence, we are seeing only a very narrow vantage point of an entire panoramic view.
When our personal lives become focused on that-which-is-out-of-our-control, it is extremely hard to find the courage to let go and let life unfold. Life is a delicate house of cards. When we think we know the forecast, we try to find a way to manage the aftermath. Even when we aren't certain of the chain of events that may or may not take us down that road.
I have become hyper-focused on far too many situations that are out of my control. When I left the house yesterday, looked up and into the world and focused on the moment I was in. It was good.
It is time to focus on joy again.
