Lines

Over the weekend I discovered a song that includes these lyrics (which of course is now firmly stuck in my head - thanks to Limewire):

"All of these lines across my face,
tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been,
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true…I was made for you"

- The Story, Brandi Carlile

Was thinking about that on the way to work today. Driving a rather loud Landy means your radio is either your voice or whatever you have in your head, and this was it.

My dad has often stated that every grey hair on his head has someone's name on it. One could say the same thing about wrinkles - they don't appear spontaneously. Some folk spend their lives squinting into the sun and end up with "crow's feet" around their eyes. Others spend their lives smiling, and the lines on their face tell the story of joy. Being all of 35 years old, I'm at the stage where anti-wrinkle, anti-age cream ads start to get my attention.. and where looking in the mirror to find grey hairs and wrinkles could be quite frightening! Especially when one considers there are some women out there who are my age and look like they're 20.

But the lines on my face DO tell a story. There are laugh lines around my eyes, and squint lines because I don't usually wear my sunglasses (or have simply forgotten them in the Ford...) and spend a lot of time outdoors. There's the occasional tired look after a full day of working and momming. There's a slight worry line between my eyebrows thanks to dealing with K&D on a regular basis - though it could have been worse, and it doesn't often show.

Scars on my knees and hands tell of a fall on a tar road in Mutare when I was 6, a slip of a chisel when I was 11 (and attempting to carve soapstone), a burn from the oven while baking brownies 3 years ago. There are three scrapes healing up from Olivia work at the moment. There's a single stretch-mark on my stomach - proof that it expanded to child-bearing proportions once.

Each of these "imperfections" a story. Each one a comma in my life-book. Each contributing to who I am today and how I move in the world.

When I look at them I read those stories, acknowledge where I've come from and how far I'm yet to go. And realize that right now, right here, I'm more complex than I appear.

My Daily Guru message this morning had the following to say:

The face in the mirror

"Our inability to see beauty doesn’t suggest in the slightest that beauty is not there. Rather, it suggests that we are not looking carefully enough or with broad enough perspective to see the beauty."

-- Rabbi Harold Kushner

Who are you? You can gaze at your reflection in a mirror but you’re not likely to see your true likeness. You are beautiful, unique, perfect. Do you see that?

The world needs you to see how whole and complete you are -- now. Can you begin to own your divinity? The world needs you to know who you really are so you can be the mirror for others.

"The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing."

-- John Muir

Exactly.