The last blog got me thinking. If we ~ as grown women who have come into our own ~ battle with the pressures of youth, beauty and the modern way ~ can you imagine what young girls and women are dealing with?
Be yourself. Be happy with who you are. The only opinion that matters is your own. And- don't judge a book by its cover.
I'd venture to guess that most parents still continue to instill these values in their daughters. About respect for yourself; respect for others. About what matters. Inside.
By the time kids hit their tweens, it's no secret that parents have less and less influence over what and how they think. Their friends and the media take over, forces as strong as any. And what are they saying? You'd better be pretty. Skinny. Hot. Big breasted. Unique differences or imperfections need not apply.
Teens have always been hard on each other. But now, just by going online, they have the power to ruin another's reputation, and tragically, sometimes even a life. And they do. All because someone deemed them physically unworthy. No wonder the pressures on kids have risen exponentially.
As adults who have actually lived through times when life wasn't consistently tainted by images of sex, violence and empty values, we have the vantage point of perspective. But what do kids have, especially if they didn't have solid parents to teach them about their own strengths and inner beauty? They most likely seek physical perfection, and erroneously with that, their self worth. Think about it - even plastic surgery is readily available to the masses. And sadly, many young girls are embracing it.
So here I stand, looking back in that mirror, and seeing my foolishness pretty clearly. Yes, I'll always be proud and want to look and feel my best. But I'm on the natural plan. Inside and outside. And, what I do, I'll do only for me.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Wake Up Call
They’ve probably been there for some time now. Changes so gradual, so slight, they were easy to deny.
But today when I looked in the mirror they stared back at me, taunting my sense of vanity ~ and reality. Is this really me? My eyes - different in a way I can’t even name. The furrowed lines - those that used to pop up on demand helping to express my Pandora’s Box of emotions - are now embedded permanently, leaving subtle, muddy shadows. My God, I thought. I’m really not thirty-five anymore.
My guess is that I’ve probably been in denial for awhile. In my head, my age ranges anywhere from 35 and 45. Clearly there’s a disconnect here. BUT! My inside screams. I'm still the same person. I feel the same; see life in the same way I always have - as huge buffet with so many tantalizing options to explore. I pretty much behave the same way, too. Optimistic, friendly, serious, responsible, crazy - whatever. I even dare to think of myself as kind of “cool” for my age (though I may definitely be off on that one).
Gotta wonder, though. If I’ve been so delusional about the physical changes taking place, is the rest of me aging that much without my seeing it, too? I can see it coming now. Sweater on in 80 degree weather, elevator music in the background, yatty-yah...
Okay, maybe I need to rethink this. Let's say I'm not completely delusional - just more resistant about this aging thing than I thought I’d be. Seriously, I don’t mind being 50.
It's definitely got its benefits - less stress, no pressure to prove oneself, a healthy sense of self. But now that my physical looks have caught up, I wonder where it's going to take me.
On the Vanity Scale, I’m probably a 6 or 7. Looking good is important, but it’s never been a critical focus. But now I've hit the inevitable truth. So, how resistant am I? How much will it really mean to look as young as I feel? I hear the voice calling now. Get out the extra dose of creams and lotions, kid. You're in for a ride.
How old do YOU feel inside? Is there any kind of a disconnect between your age, your looks, and how young you really feel? Or, as coined on Dr. Phil lately, Am I The Only One?
But today when I looked in the mirror they stared back at me, taunting my sense of vanity ~ and reality. Is this really me? My eyes - different in a way I can’t even name. The furrowed lines - those that used to pop up on demand helping to express my Pandora’s Box of emotions - are now embedded permanently, leaving subtle, muddy shadows. My God, I thought. I’m really not thirty-five anymore.
My guess is that I’ve probably been in denial for awhile. In my head, my age ranges anywhere from 35 and 45. Clearly there’s a disconnect here. BUT! My inside screams. I'm still the same person. I feel the same; see life in the same way I always have - as huge buffet with so many tantalizing options to explore. I pretty much behave the same way, too. Optimistic, friendly, serious, responsible, crazy - whatever. I even dare to think of myself as kind of “cool” for my age (though I may definitely be off on that one).
Gotta wonder, though. If I’ve been so delusional about the physical changes taking place, is the rest of me aging that much without my seeing it, too? I can see it coming now. Sweater on in 80 degree weather, elevator music in the background, yatty-yah...
Okay, maybe I need to rethink this. Let's say I'm not completely delusional - just more resistant about this aging thing than I thought I’d be. Seriously, I don’t mind being 50.
It's definitely got its benefits - less stress, no pressure to prove oneself, a healthy sense of self. But now that my physical looks have caught up, I wonder where it's going to take me.
On the Vanity Scale, I’m probably a 6 or 7. Looking good is important, but it’s never been a critical focus. But now I've hit the inevitable truth. So, how resistant am I? How much will it really mean to look as young as I feel? I hear the voice calling now. Get out the extra dose of creams and lotions, kid. You're in for a ride.
How old do YOU feel inside? Is there any kind of a disconnect between your age, your looks, and how young you really feel? Or, as coined on Dr. Phil lately, Am I The Only One?
Friday, July 2, 2010
Young Souls, Old Souls
It was our very first conversation. Tears sprang to his eyes. Transported back, the memory clearly overwhelmed him.
“I was alone, perched up top in a church tower, looking down on Saint Marco’s Square in Venice. I started to weep and didn’t know why. And then it hit me. I’d been there before ~ in another life. I felt it to my core. This place was a significant piece of my past. It was almost painful.”
I don’t think I’ve ever had a past-life memory as vivid, though I do believe I’ve lived before. For instance, I've always had a strong affinity for Hispanic and Italian cultures. Not Asian. Not German. Not Indian. I swear I have a latin soul. But why? Is that who I’ve been in the past?
We talked more, blown away at sharing the same beliefs a lot of people would consider illogical - even insane. But it seems to us that, if we do have more than one, each life is meant to teach us specific lessons. And finally, when our “young souls” have learned all things meaningful about our existence, we reach the highest level of wisdom and understanding. That's when we become “old souls”.
I have no idea which life I’m in now, though I definitely hope I’m on my way to becoming an old soul. There have been several in my life who have taught and touched me deeply. Seems like a state well-worth aspiring to.
Do old souls and young souls really exist? What are your beliefs about the possibility of past lives? Looking forward to hearing from you!
“I was alone, perched up top in a church tower, looking down on Saint Marco’s Square in Venice. I started to weep and didn’t know why. And then it hit me. I’d been there before ~ in another life. I felt it to my core. This place was a significant piece of my past. It was almost painful.”
I don’t think I’ve ever had a past-life memory as vivid, though I do believe I’ve lived before. For instance, I've always had a strong affinity for Hispanic and Italian cultures. Not Asian. Not German. Not Indian. I swear I have a latin soul. But why? Is that who I’ve been in the past?
We talked more, blown away at sharing the same beliefs a lot of people would consider illogical - even insane. But it seems to us that, if we do have more than one, each life is meant to teach us specific lessons. And finally, when our “young souls” have learned all things meaningful about our existence, we reach the highest level of wisdom and understanding. That's when we become “old souls”.
I have no idea which life I’m in now, though I definitely hope I’m on my way to becoming an old soul. There have been several in my life who have taught and touched me deeply. Seems like a state well-worth aspiring to.
Do old souls and young souls really exist? What are your beliefs about the possibility of past lives? Looking forward to hearing from you!
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About Me
- Trish
- Costa Rica
- 50's and Fabulous - that's the way it's supposed to be, right? I have to admit, being here is not such a bad deal. A few years ago we sold the farm (literally) and moved to the jungle. Who knew that I'd be spending life with monkeys, scarlet macaws and sloths? It's actually pretty awesome, though I have learned that no Paradise is perfect. I'll tell you more about that sometime... But for now, come share all the savvy and sparkle we've grown into over the years. Speak your heart, tell your stories. Here's to us ~ Cheers!