Rethinking Youth
It really comes down to attitude.
I went to the eye specialist a while ago and came out with a clean bill of health and a new prescription for glasses to take care of the inevitable effects of “Mother Nature and Father Time”, as my ophthalmologist is so fond of saying. The good news is, I can see much better than before.
The bad news is …
I can see much better than before. With my old glasses, I could fool myself into believing that the ravages of time had left me unaffected, relative to my peers. They were showing their age. My reflection, on the other hand, showed less evidence of it. And, in my vanity, I was rather proud of how I had been able to preserve my youthful look.
Uh-huh. The application of new eyewear gave me cause to pause as I looked into my usually friendly make-up mirror and saw my face, warts and all. Well, okay, I didn’t see any warts. What I did see was a long white hair growing out of my chin. It had smaller companions sticking defiantly and coarsely out of a variety of other areas of my face too. There were little blue and plum coloured veins spidering their way over my cheeks, heading for a nose that contained cavernous, moon-cratered pores. And the lines on my forehead and around my eyes resembled cracked earth at five thousand feet.
Rethinking
This new knowledge of myself compelled me to rethink my perspective as a “person of youth” and to dive for my tweezers and cover-up make-up with renewed fervor. And, more seriously, (or perhaps desperately), it has obliged me to look differently upon the whole notion of what constitutes a youthful woman. Thinking more deeply about it, I recall having met some very young eighty-year-old women and some very old thirty-year-old women as well.
It really comes down to attitude.
In a youthful eighty year old, it is not difficult to look past the creases, blotches and saggy bits that typically adorn their faces, and notice the aliveness in their eyes; the curiosity they show about things and people; and the energy they put into every day. It is this aliveness that makes them compelling and attractive. Young, old people are always learning. They are not content to sit on the sidelines of life simply because their bodies are in decline. They get on with their lives and inject into them the balm of good humour and the gracious resignation that allows them to look in the mirror and see more than the spectre of the grim reaper looking back at them. They accept themselves, as is, without regret and I would guess that those close to them love and admire them all the more for it.
Maybe for me, there will always be some measure of vanity but I’d like to think that as I age, I’ll also be lucky enough, and wise enough, to retain an aura of youth simply by being less interested in me and more interested in the people and things around me.
Gwyn Teatro
Gwyn Teatro is the author of internationally acclaimed leadership blog " You're not the boss of me" . She is a Certified Professional Coach with a Masters of Science degree in Management. With career experience spanning financial services and HR, Gwyn has coached, senior business leaders and groups on leadership, organizational effectiveness and strategic business planning. Although now technically retired, she continues to have a keen interest in leadership development and helping leaders (or those who aspire to be), find their success.
Tags: baby boomers, Gwyn Teatro, leadership
6 Responses to “Rethinking Youth”
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Thank you Gwyn for this brilliant post. We are of the same generation I think and I am having to come to terms with some of the same issues. Yes, I do think looking outwards helps and being more interested in those about us. What I hadn’t appreciated is how much courage it takes to meet age with dignity. It takes an inner resilience that is best built up when younger. I am left with great admiration for those who went before us – the generations of women who had these same thoughts and then got on with it!
I’ve had the white hair experience too by the way – last week and just before I went into a meeting with a client- ever tried to remove one without the tweezers! I shall join you in keeping a very tight hold on my make up bag!
Dear Wendy ~ I too, admire women who transition from youth to ‘maturity’ with dignity and grace. They are proof positive that it can be done and that is very encouraging. When I was going through coaching certification, one of the exercises we were asked to undertake was to imagine ourselves 20 years ahead and give that person a name. I named my ‘future self’ Amazing Grace. I still have a lot of work to do to live up to her standard, but like you, I’m working on it.
Thanks for adding your own insights here. It seems there is still a healthy market for tweezers
I love this Gwyn. I’m fortunate to be surrounded by a good few of those youthful older women, still writing poetry, joining in and sharing wisdom well into their 90s.
Personally, I’m resisting rushing for the make-up, as I hate slapping gloop all over my face, but maybe I’ll have to give in eventually. I do reach for the tweezers though
Hi Ann ~ There is a lot to learn from women who have been around awhile. If we were to take a page from your book, stop to listen and ‘be’ with them, perhaps our own physical decline would lessen in its importance. Thank you for that.
And, as a “gloop-dependent” woman I can only admire your resolve to avoid it… but am glad we are sisters in tweezers together
I believe diminished acuity particularly when it comes to our eyesight is one of the most valuable things about the aging process. I am comforted in knowing that my husband is looking at me the same way that I am looking at him, with a “Doris Day” halo around my face…perfection! There’s no need for editing! His or mine! What more could we ask for? I also don’t see the dirt that needs vacuuming or the refrigerator door that needs washing. I don’t notice spots that refuse to come out of my favorite blouse or the smudge on my favorite picture. Everything is clean and neat and beautiful. Much like life. Aging brings with it the perk of not seeing all the “little things” and “defects” that sidetrack and complicate, stress and derail. The big picture matters more. The important things. It’s blessed freedom from shoulds, have-tos and wannabes. It is a gift.
Hi Dorothy ~ I love your perspective so much, I’m considering going back to using my old glasses! Thank you for bringing the beauty of aging into the softly lit, slightly hazy light. Something feels very right about it.
I’m reminded too of my mother who, after having the cataracts removed from her eyes, discovered that her kitchen appliances, once thought to be a matching set, were two different colours