Beauty and the 'Box'
Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2011 4:16 pm
This year, I turned 47 years old...and never before have "years" seemed
so "old." I mean no disrespect to anyone older than I -- I actually
don't worry about your age. The box I find myself examining almost daily
as I look in the mirror signals its presence with this persistent
thought -- "you're fading." I find myself blaming physical change on the stressors in my life, or on a lack of free time to...well...I don't know....do facials, or something. Or I become wistful that my best years have been spent in the company of people who didn't appreciate my rosy glow when I had it. The thoughts are fleeting, but they are there in their resentful reality: red flags of "the box."
Sometimes I am bothered by the fact that I spend perfectly good thinking time wallowing in dilemmas about coloring my hair or what kind of anti-wrinkle cream to buy or which elixir from the health food store is going to combat free radical damage best. Or I'll swing to self-disgust -- "Really, Lisa, you live in comfort, safety, good health and incredible opportunity. Get over it!"
Perhaps, I think, this is a "stage" in my life, and I will get over it, much the same way I got over crushes on boys, a passion for punk rock, or the worry about choosing a major in university. Maybe my concerns are just part and parcel of being a woman in an appearance-obsessed society.
Which brings me to fresh finger-pointing -- I think a lot about the culture(s) in which I've steeped, and cast blame there:
Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in an alabaster castle
on a forested, green hill. She was without a doubt the fairest maiden in
the land -- silken, ebony hair; starry, limpid eyes; dove-soft complexion; flawless, feminine charms. Every prince in the land aspired to be her shining hero.
Sigh....who could measure up? Why even try?
But, try I have. Thanks for nothing, fairy tale princesses and fashion magazine covers...your magic formulas haven't worked. The wicked spell of passing time wins in the end.
Sound bitter? It should -- "bitter" is a tell-tale sign of self-deception in my life, and I've got it bad.
...........................................................................
Thankfully, the Arbinger-influenced (from the book Anatomy of Peace) thinking of late has shed a light on both "Beauty and the Box" and the girl in front of the mirror.
Have you thought about the box and "beauty?" I'd love to share this conversation with you.
so "old." I mean no disrespect to anyone older than I -- I actually
don't worry about your age. The box I find myself examining almost daily
as I look in the mirror signals its presence with this persistent
thought -- "you're fading." I find myself blaming physical change on the stressors in my life, or on a lack of free time to...well...I don't know....do facials, or something. Or I become wistful that my best years have been spent in the company of people who didn't appreciate my rosy glow when I had it. The thoughts are fleeting, but they are there in their resentful reality: red flags of "the box."
Sometimes I am bothered by the fact that I spend perfectly good thinking time wallowing in dilemmas about coloring my hair or what kind of anti-wrinkle cream to buy or which elixir from the health food store is going to combat free radical damage best. Or I'll swing to self-disgust -- "Really, Lisa, you live in comfort, safety, good health and incredible opportunity. Get over it!"
Perhaps, I think, this is a "stage" in my life, and I will get over it, much the same way I got over crushes on boys, a passion for punk rock, or the worry about choosing a major in university. Maybe my concerns are just part and parcel of being a woman in an appearance-obsessed society.
Which brings me to fresh finger-pointing -- I think a lot about the culture(s) in which I've steeped, and cast blame there:
Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in an alabaster castle
on a forested, green hill. She was without a doubt the fairest maiden in
the land -- silken, ebony hair; starry, limpid eyes; dove-soft complexion; flawless, feminine charms. Every prince in the land aspired to be her shining hero.
Sigh....who could measure up? Why even try?
But, try I have. Thanks for nothing, fairy tale princesses and fashion magazine covers...your magic formulas haven't worked. The wicked spell of passing time wins in the end.
Sound bitter? It should -- "bitter" is a tell-tale sign of self-deception in my life, and I've got it bad.
...........................................................................
Thankfully, the Arbinger-influenced (from the book Anatomy of Peace) thinking of late has shed a light on both "Beauty and the Box" and the girl in front of the mirror.
Have you thought about the box and "beauty?" I'd love to share this conversation with you.