The Looking Glass Speaks

One perfectly ordinary, run of the mill morning, the looking glass speaks.  Surprise, it tells me, You're too old to die young.


I meet the mirror's steady gaze, noting the circles underneath my eyes, the paragraph marks on either side of my mouth, all the lines and creases and imperfections that show my age - they're not flaws so much as badges - and I find I don't mind nearly as much as I expected to.  If nothing else, I'm a survivor with a stubborn streak.... a little tired, a little broke down but still up and about and able to take a little nourishment in the form of music and photography, friends and my little ones at home.  This Sunday morning is so full of sun, so clear and cool for the last day of May, so perfect it makes me want to cry.  The only sounds are the muted chatter of a squirrel high in the pine tree and the doves somewhere in the next yard.  A redbird alights on the fence for the briefest moment, its bright feathers shining in the sun, its movements quick and delicate.  After a second or two, it spreads its wings and glides smoothly and gracefully off.



I remember the exultation of 21, the trauma and depression of 30, the resignation of 40, the reality of 50 and finally the acceptance and fatalism of 60.  Each decade brought change and challenge, both good and bad.  I said goodbye to old friends and hello to new ones, learned new skills and shed old habits, did my best to adapt to each new situation, wavering between the past and the future while trying to stay in the present.  The scenery and the weather seemed to change with each passing year as did the faces - I searched for something constant and came up empty handed - every day was a day nearer the end than the beginning.


It may be too late for me to be sent to an early grave, but this I know - we become old only when we allow it.


Hail to the rainbow of available hair colors and wrinkle creams and slimming jeans, the anti-aging serums and
lifting creams and all the Jenny Craigs in the world - they will not save you.


On the other hand, nothing says you have to actually listen to the looking glass - it can only see the surface and the surface is always a tad deceptive, always a little more interested in how we appear than how we actually are.  Age is nothing to run from and our true reflections are inside us.