My laugh lines — around my mouth and the crinkles (ie crow’s feet) at the corners of my eyes — tell a tale of a face which has laughed her way through All. The. Things. The silver and gray in my hair is splashed with 3 shades of purple to let people know — yes I color my hair — but not to hide my age — to be SEEN. I will not be an Invisible Old Lady. Oh fuck no!
The yoga and meditation carry meld my body to my soul and help me understand — I am not my body. She is the vessel who requires care for the work she has done in this life.
So I care for her. With kindness and compassion. I listen to her needs. I move her and I rest her.
I think many people disconnect from their bodies. They punish them for being too this, or not enough that. As they age — instead of being thankful for how far their bodies have carried them — they resent the fact their bodies didn’t stay a 20 year-old specimen of strength and agility. They never see the gifts of aging in any part of their lives and certainly never look at their bodies with love.