There is just something about scars... I think they are beautiful. They represent the end of hurt, a closed and healed wound. A time where the rain that hides your tears is no longer your best friend. A sign of survival, a mark of strength and a reminder of what you are capable of. Sometimes scars are something to look forward to.
And wrinkles... I think they are magnificent. A true map of a life lived. What is it with wrinkles that makes people try and hide them? Everyone seems so worried and ashamed of wrinkles... I think they should be worn with pride, a badge of wisdom etched deep into the skin. There is extreme beauty in the marks our lives leave on our bodies. They make us who we are, without them and the experiences they came from, we wouldn't be the same. As much as most people want to be different, they want to have more and meet their expectation of perfection. In reality, we are all perfect the way we are. Perfectly unique... Actually, I don't believe that at all. As much as I would love to think its true, I believe there are a lot of people that are deliberately malicious. Cowardliness is not perfection, it is not beautiful and it is not O.K. I just wish these people were easier to identify. Maybe a flashing neon sign that screams "JERK ALERT" would help. At least it would be more obvious than someone who disguised themselves as your friend for the previous 20 years... I'm just saying!
Now that's out of my system (for now) I will get back on track. My point is this: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and sometimes perfection isn't perfect. Why is it, do you think, that we are drawn to our Grand Parents? I know for me, it was the wisdom, the stories - some of which I'm sure were exaggerated, if they weren't I don't know what all the fuss is about with "the youth of today". I would never DREAM of doing some of the things my Grand Father was said to have done! But it wasn't just the stories, supported by scars and wrinkles, which I could touch. I loved the texture of my grand mother's skin. It was so soft, thin and delicate but she was also so strong. A real contradiction. It was also the love, protection, guidance and general knowledge on everything that would draw me in time and time again. The life lessons, the opinions, the home remedies, the cooking and the honest interest in each others lives. The teacher and the student, the gap in generations that allowed the young and old to share openly without criticism. We love everything about them, we wouldn't change the way they look or smell or act. They are the people we most respect in our lives and yet we fight to be nothing like them. We fight aging when the alternative is to die young... There is seriously something wrong with our perception of the World.
It all comes down to equality. If people didn't have money to spend (read: waste) on things like plastic surgery and botox, we would ALL be wrinkly together, so no one would mind. If no one ironed their clothes... I mean what exactly does ironing achieve? I know it makes your clothes wrinkle free (this is how vain we really are, even our clothes can't have wrinkles) but it doesn't make you smarter or more successful, so what's the point? It's a waste of time that could be better spent with our families, or even cooking a decent meal. So, my solution to this problem is simple. Become a Hippie, embrace the free-love approach to life, don't iron your clothes, only work when you need to, never save any money, don't critisise other people and learn to laugh at yourself!
Too many people spend too much time and energy portraying a fake life to the world so they are perceived as being better / more successful / happier than they really are... That's not living. No wonder people want to hide their wrinkles, you can wear smile lines with pride, but the wrinkles left from frowning and lying make you look like you have the face of a smacked bum.
Jessie
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