*Danger in the Creek!

 I've had a birthday shout hooray! 39 and just brimming with wisdom. I suspect when I hit 40 it will just geyser out of me like Old Faithful. And like many a wise person, I now come to realize what a fool I once was. I thought I was wise. But I wasn't.  Now I am wise. For keeps this time. 

"Your future self will always see your present self as unwise and immature. That means you are currently a fool right now.” --Keller.

Shoot. Well that's a problem for future me. For now, I can only reflect on what was.

Back when I was stupid, but ravishingly beautiful, I didn't care a bit about the beauty industry. Okay maybe I cared a bit or two, but surely not all of them. What I didn't much worry about was getting older. Why fight the inevitable? Everybody's doin' it. And so I'd do it gracefully, embracing my maturity and seasons of life. Vanity was for the foolish-I would never put that much stock into what I looked like. I was wise after all.

But then it actually happened. I aged. And my confident opinion faltered. And then it happened again. And dang it it keeps happening! I'm not feeling so embracing and graceful. But to be fair, unlike my prediction, not everybody is doin' it! Magazine covers, celebrities, and your filtered facebook pics is not doin it. Plus being single now...♪♪♪♬♪♪ Pressure! Actual rhythm. You're welcome.

But of course that's not reality. Or is it? Unlined faces are now the norm. Wide, bright, lashful eyes are the norm. Wrinkly necks are the norm. Ok that bugger's a harder case to solve. But who cares what the norm is! Buck the norm! But there's only so much bucking one should do. From all accurate cartoons I can find, cavemen had tangly hair with bones in it. It was the norm. It's not now. No one recommends standing with the Neanderthals on this one. Is that the same for my left droopy eye? Should I take a stand and embrace its humble and disheartened personality? Or have we reached the tipping point and semi-closed eyes are now the equivalent of the tangled bone hair of yesteryear?

Proclaiming looks don't matter is not the same as them not mattering. Your face is your calling card. If my soul is full of inner light and beauty, truth and wisdom (and it is) but nobody can tell because my face looks like Treebeard's, what then? If a tree has a beautiful personality but nobody can get past it's crumbling exterior, does it make a beautiful sound?? 

Well maybe people shouldn't be so shallow! They should look on the heart like the Lord. But they/we generally don't. And didn't the Lord also say I am my brother's keeper? He didn't actually answer that directly did he? But it's implied. Shouldn't I help them out? Since when do they have the energy to dig deeper to find my golden heart? Who has time for that? They've got their own troubles and tribulations and aren't looking at me anyway! Okay another point for Treebeard face.

And of course we must all think of the children! A totally wisdomous thing to do. How could I ever justify sending the message to my daughter, and your daughter, that she isn't enough, and absolutely beautiful just the way she is? Wouldn't that be unforgivable?

Then again, maybe I can have my cake and eat it too. Maybe I can send the message she is enough, beautiful, lovely, exactly as God created her. Until she's about say 40 give or take, and then sweet child, it's all up to you now. 

Speaking of actually wise people, let me introduce you to my mom. She explained that biologically speaking, we basically have one purpose on this planet-to propagate the species. Once that task is done, we really are of no use. Wise, and dark, geez mom. But hear her out! Once she realized that, she also realized, "It's not about me anymore." There is freedom in being unimportant. And of course she is. She saves me on the daily. That's the paradox. When she realized it's not about her, she can even more and more live for others, because it's about them, making her more useful than ever.  

So I recommit yet again to jowls, eye bags, and inelasticity everywhere. And becoming as inwardly beautiful as my mother, who happens to be outwardly beautiful as well. Talk about having your cake and eating it too. Geez mom.

*We were playing a game the other night when out of nowhere Liam sang in a goofy voice, "Danger in the Creek!" It surprised even Liam, and continues to crack us up. And its total nonsensical irrelevance to anything precisely encapsulates this post.