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| Winning face-offs |
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| Scoring goals |
After his practice tonight I rented a movie that was about age and our common assumption that younger is always better. Surprisingly smooth, unwrinkled skin and ungraying hair isn't everything.
Of course, when that skin and hair belongs to Blake Lively, it's not easy to have much sympathy at first. She plays the role of Adaline, a young woman with a big secret. Turns out that Adaline, though it is the present time, was born in 1908. She married, had a daughter, lost her husband and then, at 29, almost drowned when a car accident landed her in frigid waters. Somehow, a scientific process involving a bolt of lightning both revived her heart and stopped her from aging.
Looking like a young Blake Lively forever might not seem much of a problem. But it's a lonely existence, because once she hits 45 or so, Adaline arouses suspicion. She has to basically live on the run, changing identities every decade. She also can't live with her daughter, who's aging normally, which means she can only live with her dog — or succession of dogs, since each will die, sadly, at a normal rate.
As I watched I thought I might enjoy the notion of being youthful instead, because that’s a completely different thing. In fact, that’s something I can actually achieve.
Youth refers to how someone looks; it’s a reference to their body. Youthfulness is a reference to my life energy—a much nicer thing to strive for than my long lost youth.
My yoga teacher says that she can tell your “real” age by how flexible your spine is: If you can still bend it, flex it, and roll it, if it’s still malleable and fluid, you’re doing fine. (Whether you’re 20 or 70, this is a realistic goal we can all try to attain!)
I agree with her, but from the viewpoint of my own point of view. Youth is something that’s present in your eyes. It’s a way of being in the world, of interacting with it and placing yourself in it.
It’s something you can see in a person’s energy rather than their skin—a liveliness and interest in their environment that regenerates itself.
If I want to stay youthful, I don’t need to go under the knife. Hey, I don’t even have to leave home. I've figured out I need to sustain these three simple-yet-much-more-magical-things.
1. Play
Play means you’re having fun. It’s the polar opposite of work. Somewhere on the path to getting a career and “growing up” we forget that.
What does it mean to play with something?
- To engage
- in a light-hearted way
- to discover and explore
- without expectation
- or being invested in an outcome.
All of my favorite spiritual teachers have a cunning sense of humor about life and bring it into their teachings as well.
Do you do anything fun with your time?
When’s the last time you discovered or did something new? When did you do something without trying to get some kind of end result from it, just for fun?
I am thinking it’s time to sign up for that scuba diving course or join a local knitting group once a week. (I hear that knitting can be fun.) Remember: Fun is the process. It has nothing to do with the outcome. Play. Discover. Explore.
My mom used to say, "Never, ever take yourself too seriously." To ensure long lasting happiness, make this a primary way of interacting with the world.
2. Desire
Desire is the energy that propels us forward.
It makes us want to stick around to see what happens next. Even a monk who desires nothing is driven by a strong desire—to desire nothing and connect with his higher Self.
Nurture desires. They can serve as the canon which continuously launches me into life.
When I wake up in the morning I ask myself: How can I satisfy one of my own desires today?
Even if I have to work from 7-7:30 that day I can make sure that I do at least one thing everyday that I consciously chose to do because I enjoy it. It doesn’t need to be earth shattering. Take a long bubble bath, have breakfast with a friend, or write a post.
3. Adaptability...
is the ability to adapt, to change. Youthfulness requires me to be able to bend with life.
Case in point: Have you ever seen a baby fall over? Their soft little bodies are usually alright since they don’t break, they bend.
The older I get, the more rigid I tend to become in both thoughts and bodies. Tension stiffens and leads to breakage. Like an old woman who refuses to change, rigidity about who and whatI am leaves no room for exploration. It means I'm old.
And it's a direct result of fear. Fear and presumption narrow down choices; they close things off to new possibilities and vitality. I'd rather take a risk every now and again. Step out of my box, even if it’s just a little step.
Youthfulness is about my vitality and spirit. I stopped chasing after that twenty-nine year-old skin years ago, embracing the wisdom that comes with age, and the next time I drive in a lightning storm, I'll smile.
