How can I look at my darn wrinkled face for more than a quick, passing glance? About once a week, I have a moment while I’m shaving or attempting to take wax out of my left ear or picking aged beef out of my lower right molar when I just stop and stare at me close up. I stick my nose close to the mirror. Unflattering light invades from both sides. This is who I’ve turned into after 75 years?
What’s strange is, I get a kick out of looking at me. It makes me smile. Sometime, nearing my seventh decade, I realized how little my face had to do with how I was feeling on the inside. About the same time, I began caring less about what others saw on the outside and more about whether they could recognize the joy and love that keep expanding within me.
Aging can come with pain, sorrow and loss. Thank goodness what continues to grow on the inside is what really counts.
I can’t wait until tomorrow.