We think we're aware of what we look like. After all we see our reflections a myriad of times throughout every day. Right? Then why are photos always such a shock? For me at least. Oh, I get that the camera adds 10 pounds but does it add turkey waddle to your neck?? I ask you?
No wonder many indigenous tribes believe that the camera steals your soul. Because when your soul sees those pictures of you from that party, it packs it's bag and leaves! Don't you always (or often) feel beautiful when you know you've pulled it all together? We're all aware of our flaws and have learned to work with them. So we do our make up meticulously. We dress consciously. We LOOK in the mirror and are happy or at least satisfied with the outcome.
I attended a reunion dinner this past weekend. Old friends from high school. We were all in theater (or as we call it, Drama) together and have stayed in touch to some degree or other through the years. These people are perhaps the most important people in my life...children aside. I felt beautiful that night. And when everyone tells you that you look beautiful and you also feel beautiful, it really affects how you feel. I thought we all looked beautiful and that time has been generous to all of us. We had a fabulous evening. It was like no time at all had passed. Our spirits reveled in each other's company and we played and laughed all night...I went home at 4:30AM feeling like Cinderella. But you know how that ends.
The coach turns back into a pumpkin. Or in my case...the pictures get posted on Facebook. The horror!!!!! How much better would it be if one never had to be confronted with the "reality" of our human condition. Instead of now still basking in the glory of how beautiful everyone said I looked, I'm stuck in that well worn groove of hating that the photos don't match the story. I know we're supposed to evolve past that. But I'm just not zen enough...nor apparently is most of society given how many cosmetic procedures are done in this country alone. Sigh. All I can do is un-tag myself from the worst pictures posted and do damage control via Photoshop to the ones I have control over. And work on my plan to afford that extreme makeover.
PS - Baby Steps Yoga is going well. Didn't practice it every day over the long weekend though. As for Baby Steps Dating. Ugh. Plenty of Fish? Not so much? To paraphrase Groucho Marx, I don't really want to date the people who want to date me.