I was at the gym today and saw a woman on the elliptical trainer beside me who had lips bigger than her derrière! My first thought was: “Welcome to LA!” My second thought was: “God, please don’t let me ever want to puff my lips like a cartoon fish!” But then . . . the little pink devil that hangs out on my left shoulder said: “Hey, didn’t you just tell someone the other day that you would consider a face-lift when you are around fifty-five?” Oops. Yes, I guess I did. It’s true I have become more grounded with yoga and other wonderful practices in my life, but I also see my face’s and buttocks’ gravitational pull. Your soul can become one with the earth, but your face and butt need to stay up, up, up! At least that’s what we (mostly women) are pressured into believing.
I had a conversation a few years ago about the mind/body/spirit connection with an ex-student who has now become a good friend. I had mentioned that the body is the least important of the three, and one will encounter happiness through a strong mind and spirit. She reminded me that “the body is our temple” and it is, in fact, with a healthy body that we can strengthen our mind and spirit.
I always think about this as my almost forty-four-year old body bench presses 3 sets of 15 of a 55lb bar. At the end of every challenging work-out—be it spinning, weight-lifting or Corepower yoga, I am always thankful for this body, not because I can still fit into my wedding dress, but because I feel strong and healthy.
I’m at the age where we start to see those around us deal with aching backs, bad knees, and in more serious cases, disease. We experience mothers, aunts, sisters, and friends who fight breast cancer (my own mother is a twelve-year survivor), some younger friends who have had ovaries removed because of the hideous ovarian cancer that hides so well, others who live with less-publicized diseases such as Scleroderma or Crohn’s. These women, who deal with real issues, make me feel less inclined to worry about my wrinkles or belly fat.
But. Over the years I have a growing number of students who have said to me in evaluations (and in person when I know them better): “You always seem like you are mad” or “You always seem to be critiquing us with your look.” Indeed I do critique (isn’t that the role of a conscientious teacher?), but I have learned that many of these comments stem from my furrowed brow. My pensive look is often read as if I am upset. I’m not. I just have never injected Botox into my face. Or Restylane. Or any other foreign substance. Never had a laser or chemical peel. I am au natural. And I know it shows because of the two deep lines in my forehead. I just don’t want people to think I’m mad.
But. I don’t want to do anything—at least for a while. I like it when I see my brow lift, my eyes squint, the lines around my smile emerge. I’ve earned these lines and I am proud of them.
But. I will be honest. I like them, now, at my age, but I don’t know how I will feel in ten or twenty or thirty years (if I am lucky to live that long). I saw Jane Fonda a year ago in person at her movie screening and then a few months ago on “The View”; she looks fabulous at seventy-five. On the talk show, she discussed her hip surgery and about pushing her body too hard. She still works out, but does exercises suited for a woman in her seventies. She talked openly about finally succumbing to a face-lift, saying she was no longer happy with the image that looked back at her. So, like her, I never want to say never.
As I looked at Fish Lips to my left and contemplated the aforementioned, I felt a bit guilty. I don’t know her personal story and why she chooses to look that way, and at the end of the day, I just hope that people who do plastic or any of all that other stuff that is now available (if you have the money, of course) you first work on a strong body, mind, and spirit. As we say at the end of my yoga class: Namaste. Peace be with you. And with Fish Lips.
kimberlykrobeson 