Going to War with the Latest Wrinkle

Named for the Roman god of war, Mars, March was the first month of the Roman calendar until the adoption of the Julian calendar in 46 B.C.

Enough permission for me to go to War with Wrinkles.

Natural living trends in the country have skyrocketed. People want to live in a way that respects the body by eating healthy and exercising [or so we hear]. Living in a way that is respectful to the environment as well [or so they say]. 

So what do we do when we want to live naturally and still get rid of wrinkles?  Inject Botox or have surgery  among other resources out there?  It can seem contradictory.

A 1,800-year-old box of old face cream was found. 

The Roman women of old were just as concerned about their looks as we are. The creams contained about 40 percent boiled animal fats—probably from cattle or sheep—mixed with 40 percent starch, and tin oxide. Starch is still used today in beauty treatments.

The team of scientists recreated the cream using modern-day ingredients: starch, powdered tin oxide and animal fat. "Although it felt greasy initially, owing to the fat melting as a result of body heat, this was quickly overtaken by the smooth, powdery texture created by the starch," the team wrote approvingly. 

Even in Roman times women were expected to suffer for their beauty. By the time the cream was made, the Romans were becoming aware that the lead used to make face powders white could drive habitual users slowly mad.

I am no fanatic when it comes to eating right & I do not worship the ground or my neighbor‘s 100-year oak.  I will respect mother Earth—she’s been an unsung hero at 4.6 billion years old without my being nutty about it. 

And after countless Krakatoas, catastrophic meteor showers, and boundless forest fires that have belched forth and incinerated millions times more carbon and mercury than Mama‘s chillen; it seems that “mother” earth is, like most moms, a lot tougher and resilient than we give her credit for… and not ready to lay over the first time Hillbilly Bob down the hollar fires up his SUV. All the same, I expect Bob to be a good steward for Big Mama.

I am mindful most of the time of what goes into my body, & what I ought to be preparing for dinner for my family.  To me it makes sense.

As I look in the rear view mirror though, a little vanity creeps in when all I see is that line etching deeper in the middle of my forehead. I think lots of folks all over the country are struggling with this dilemma: How do we accept ourselves as we are, wrinkles and all, eat well and accept aging gracefully without cosmetic surgery. There seems to be a whole host of ways to fatten up a sagging line and flaws we are trying to correct with toxins and injecting fat from other parts of the body into our lips for example.

I recently read that cosmetic surgeries have decreased, while the number of minimally invasive procedures jumped by 110%, and injections of toxins to paralyze facial muscles and diminish creases tops the cosmetic procedures now in the US.  For those considering altering their faces without major surgery, laser and sound-wave treatments promises to tighten sagging faces without out so much as a little nick. 

As time passes I’m less judgmental about what folks decide to do with their bodies and minds. At first, I did laugh at the “bootie pop” pads on commercials here to enhance the bottom. I guess PR men like a bootie that POPS!  I cannot judge if a person is truly miserable & they feel this will enhance their lives for themselves & others.  Do we decide to have surgery to feel good about ourselves or do we do it for others?

I know a lady here in PR and she must have had a few surgeries and injections, yet she insists on eating farm fresh eggs and free range chickens & preaches a little about being an environmentalist.  When they bury her, will she become an EPA interest regarding the local well water? 

Didn’t Mother Theresa look more endearing with all of her wrinkles? And yet, the crew she ran with WERE of a similar mindset. My husband insists that women are more concerned with what other women think vs. what their own husband, boyfriends or random males think. If my man thinks I’m a wrinkled mutt; so be it. But GOD FORBID if my girl friends were to utter a comment! And they better not begar! (Irish word)

No; instead, I think the paradoxical struggle makes us more human—trying to do right by our bodies & environment while still holding onto some ME time. For example, it has to be almost impossible to lead a life of pureness of mind and spirit, eat the freshness ingredient 100% of the time and not put fuel in my car and house to survive.  We cannot do it all.

I’m too much of a scaredy cat to do any type of surgery, (98 feet per second is the speed of pain signals); and I’m too selfish to deprive myself of giving up everything that is bad for me & when I return to MN, I‘m going to light autumn bon-fires outside and smoke the sky up now and then. 

Life really isn’t about all or nothing for me.   

March, the God of War, coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb is like weathering & digesting thoughts about how our bodies are changing. This recognition is often cold and stormy and when acceptance arrives, the head is milder and warmed up to the idea of who we are.  And it ain’t perfect.

Maybe old age is both the curse AND the blessing God has bestowed upon us. If we were forever young, in our looks, how the vanities would infect our minds. God has blessed us with an opportunity to realize that we are not here to be admired but to serve.

And even an ugly, wrinkled old humane society bulldog will fight and die, in selfless service; infinitely more effectively,  than the comely and oh-so cosmopolitan Afghan Purebred.

Yet, what lovely hair on that purebred. I wonder where she gets her hair done? Oh, I just love your hair! Does it make me look younger? Oh definitely! WELL, thank you! I just found a new stylist! And MY, that dress makes you look so slim! Have you lost weight? Oh, go on! No REALLY—you… look… divine! Well, I HAVE been working out!

And it shows… POP