Let's Talk About Wrinkles...I Mean Memories:)

Turning 33 last month, I began taking a closer look in the mirror.  Conceded yes, but an evaluation had to be done.  Do I have hair growing out of places that it shouldn't be?  Do any of my many freckles look like age spots or skin cancer?  Should I begin using the many age fighting creams, lotions and potions on my face?  And then I noticed my wrinkles....

Being that I am not on TV or the silver screen, I did not go running out to get Botox or plastic surgery, but I did notice them.  I could not believe it, wrinkles, already?!  

The next day, I kept thinking about my wrinkles.  How are they nonexistent one moment, and then BAM right in the kisser, you have these wrinkles or should I use the politically correct term "laugh lines".  I looked again at the wrinkles next to my mouth and thought, how many times did I have to laugh to form these.  Who did I smile at recently that contributed to my aging:)

Then there are the wrinkles between my eyes.  These to me are angry or stress wrinkles.  They appear from putting to much pressure on the brain!  I really need to stop doing that.  

Finally, I thought about my forehead.  I thought for a long time, pondering what on earth contributed to these.  Questions? Surprises?  Confusion?  And then it hit me!  I have inherited these wrinkles from my father.  He has a matching pair.  It is one of the defined features on his face no matter what his expression is.  These wrinkles are my memories both good and bad.  For every moment that is meant to be captured, I lock it tight in side and as a result I have developed a family trait.

I suppose I could look at the development of my wrinkles as a sign of developed wisdom.  But I prefer to look at all of wrinkles as memories.  Emotional moments that have been etched onto my face and those that define who I am as individual.

To Be Brave Like a Kid Again

Why is it, as we get older, our bravery skills diminish?  Trying something new at the ripe old age of 33 strikes fear in me like no other.  I miss the days when a double dare at the monkey bars would result in a triumphant face plant in the sand and I would stand up and say "see, I tried it".  Or swinging as high as the top bar, to jump out and only to land perfectly on your feet.  Those were the days.  It seems like lately, the bravery concept is lost in the monotony of everyday life.  Why is that?

Today, with the help of one little girl, I figured it out.  Adults do not like to learn anything new and we lose trust in each other.  Take Syd for example, today is her seventh birthday and her first ever tractor pull.  She can't even reach the floor of the tractor and yet she has no fear.  When I asked her why she felt so confident.  She told me it was because she practiced a lot and she had dad to help her.

Syd did a great job today.  Even though she didn't take first, she walked away with the understanding that she was successful simply because she tried.

As we get older, we need to be reminded every once in awhile that it is ok to fail, as long as you try.  That being brave involves others by your side.  And that learning something new means practice and that no matter how old we are, we still have much to learn!