Aging With Grace
Recently a good friend of mine lamented the signs of aging she noticed in her face and shared with a group of us that she was considering a simple botox procedure as a solution. She commented, “I know, I know… aging gracefully and all that… but this is one of the first signs of aging that is really bothering me.”
The conversation got me thinking about the notion of aging gracefully and how that term might just be a dressed-up, patriarchal imperative to “be sweet,” “stay pretty,” and somehow appear unruffled by the ravages of time. Okay, ravages of time might sound a bit dramatic. I am simply saying that no one gets to later life without loss, betrayal, heartbreak, and disappointment mixed into the tender moments of connection, exaltation, and joy that life offers. Laughing, crying, worrying, thinking, and the inevitable loss of collagen as we age carve lines into previously smooth facial contours. Hormonal changes affect our weight and body composition. Muscle recovery takes more time. And so on. Aging is not for the weak, after all.
And look— I am a fan of good moisturizers, vitamins, and whatever self-care and beauty regimes give a person confidence and greater delight in their form. Fine, fine, fine. And while I chimed in on the side of “No, don’t get the botox,” my fundamental love for my friend will remain untouched by whatever choice she makes.
And still, this morning, I object to the concept of aging gracefully. Aging gracefully is simply too much pressure for me. In fact, just thinking of how to manage aging gracefully is deepening the crease between my eyebrows and turning my hair even more grey.
I am willing to consider aging with grace, however. The Christian faith of my childhood taught that grace is the mercy of God. Later my yogic studies defined grace as the revelatory power of Supreme Consciousness. I experience grace as the merciful, yet not-always-easy-or-pleasant impulse of Reality to reveal itself to me in and through life as it is. Another way we might say it is that, Reality always wins. In terms of aging, it’s happening whether I like it or not and no one gets out alive. Not at the level of the body, that is.
At any rate, I’d like to age in a close, abiding relationship with grace. I’d like to age with the knowledge that, like Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans (8:36), “nothing can separate us from God’s Love.” I’d like to know that regardless of collagen levels, wrinkles, weight gain, grey hair, no hair, personal losses, disappointments, shattered expectations, and so on, that I am inextricably woven into the fabric of Life itself with the gossamer threads of grace.
I am not foolish enough to suggest that aging with grace means I will enjoy any of these difficulties as they present themselves in my own journey. If you know me, you already know that I am not someone who says things like “stretch marks are tiger marks” and “love your cellulite” or “wrinkles are battle scars” or whatever. Truth be told, I find any reframe of body-criticisms that show up as Facebook memes too simplistic to actually make a dent in the force of the patterns at which they are aimed. Same goes for meme-based life advice. Maybe that’s just me. I mean, use what helps you. My point is that aging with grace allows all of those ups and downs, likes and dislikes, pleasures and pains, etc. to occur within a larger field of unfolding. Aging with grace doesn’t mean I have to love my wrinkles. Aging with grace is the practice of offering myself my own mercy so that I am never separate from my own loving presence. Aging with grace is allowing other people to nourish and nurture me so that the lines between God’s love and human love blur a bit, the myth of separation is challenged, and the source of mercy is revealed as something beneath and beyond my limited capacities and contracted viewpoints.
I have always been fortunate to have wise elders in my life who are living examples of what it means to age with grace. I have watched their lives break down and seen them rebuild themselves into something new. I have heard them scream in outrage, weep in acceptance, and emerge with wisdom, insight, and greater compassion. I have seen their wrinkles deepen, their bodies soften, their hair whiten, and their understanding and capacity to serve expand. So, with any luck, I will have the time in this body as it continues to age, to follow their living examples and to live into my later years in an ongoing process of aging with grace whether that process is graceful or not.
Keep the faith.
