When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is an unspeakable dawn in happy old age.
~ Victor Hugo
Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.
~ Mark Twain
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
~ William Shakespeare
I’m 37. Not old, but not young.
I have many small scars that only I see and three that everyone can see. And I have many new wrinkles this year alone and thinning hair and weakening eyes (thanks, internets).
Nobody gets out of life alive, he used to say.
But I’ll wear big sharp black or tortoise shell glasses and look smart, finally, and I’ll wrinkle more and look like a poor man’s McQueen, and I’ll miss my hair but begin to look, finally, as if I’m mature (I’ll know better).
Aging happens to the best of us.
Aging is beautiful if the emotions that feed into our wrinkles are true and unobstructed by self-deception.
Pain, sadness, joy, a humor about oneself…honest wrinkles tell true stories that perfect plastic hides.
Beware the urge to hide, for we smother ourselves.
I (admit that I) often recoil in horror at the idea of being married to an old person. For that’s what happens when we get married: we all age and before we know it our lover is elderly (and so are we, of course). But then once in awhile I see an old woman who is active, her back unbent, her eyes bright, her white hair uncut, her day alive…and I say: wow.
For our task here is to practice loving our wrinkles, loving our hair loss. Love our aging. We must be among those who do not fight death but who still embrace life, and do not give in to it easily…and then our life and wisdom may unfurl like an epic, and
we may become more beautiful, with age.
…via alittlehoney on tumblr.
And: The Buddha, on aging gracefully.
How to love yourself: Maitri!
How to stay healthy:
How to be human: