Where Did My Lips Go?

Are you kidding? My lips are where I get thin?

Ok, very funny, goddess of aging. Very funny.

I get wrinkles. Ok, I am getting used to that.

I get a thicker middle, saggy skin, bruise more easily, and mind you, the bruises are not soft pastel colors, but vivid hues that stand out. I get achy and squeaky joints, breasts that are moving south for the winter, a body that is becoming a caricature of what it once was, a face that I don’t recognize in the mirror sometimes. Ok, ok, one by one I am trying to get used to the new normal.

 But my lips? No one warned me about this. I looked in the mirror and to my horror, I see my lower lip slowly disappearing into my mouth, as if is is rolling back. Where did it go? Where the hell do I put lipstick? If I put it where my lips used to be, I will end up looking like a clown. But it hardly seems worth it to put it on the smaller version of what used to be a normal sized lower lip. I guess I will save money on lipstick, as it won’t take as much at all. 

WTF? What a cruel sense of humor that aging has… gaining weight, losing my waist, getting thinner hair, sprouting odd hairs where they don’t belong, getting thinner skin, and now …thin lips. Will they disappear completely? That would look quite odd. 

My memory is not as good as it once was. My eyes don’t see as well. I wear a hearing aid. My feet have issues, and this affects how much I can walk right now. My knees creak and sometimes hurt. These are all parts of this journey. 

And now the lips. 

I don’t think that I will ask what is next, as I always seem to get an answer, and usually not a welcome one. 

Well, I guess it’s best to keep laughing. We might as well. I cannot argue with reality, nor change what time will bring. So let me laugh and keep learning what I can along the way. 

I do, think, though, that my insides are also changing, but in a good way.

There is a softness, a deeper realization of the beauty that life can bring (along with the sorrow …all part of the package), a greater sense of the sacredness of each moment that we get to breathe and live, a growing appreciation of the depth that our love can reach for each other, for all beings on this earth, for the earth itself. 

There is a beauty growing within as I am forced to let go of any outside definitions of myself and come to know the insides better, come to express those parts more openly and genuinely as I get to come home to the self that I have been all along but that got distracted by things along the way. 

 My body may not be what it once was, but the spirit it houses grows more each day and grows more into itself each year. I may not see as well with my eyes, but I see you with my heart. I may not hear you as well with my ears, but I hear you with all my being, hear what you say and what you don’t say, hear what you say with your body, your face, your expressions, your tone. I may not walk as fast, but I can walk slowly beside you and keep you company when you are feeling low and sad. My grip may not be as strong, but my touch is from my core.

And I can still smile, with these little lips, and with my eyes. And I can connect with you, have the time for you, and see and hear you deeply. I am still here, and even more so as I know that my time is limited on this earth. 

So, aging, keep it coming. After all, if you are still here and giving me all these gifts, that means that I am still alive to experience it all. And that is a good thing, thin lips and all!