To Kill The Giant

The eternal smile, worn tight, fosters an agist culture that demands youthfulness. Constant bombardment of natural cures, anti aging creams, cool sculpting to going under the knife for the sake of erasing time stares back at you in the mirror. The deep circles or sagging neck, the jowls all define the human person as it ages. The greying of the hairs, inset eyes, are but
The time it took someone to experience life, to outgrow diapers, to spell, read and write, hit their first baseball, or learn to ride a bike, is wiped away. Where did the line go that signified true loss and pain or , the moment you captured love in the eyes of another? Is it wiped away in one knife and one pull of the skin? Where did the smile upon attending the grandchild’s first birthday get whisked away to? What happened to the wrinkle that upturned on its own, that symbolized the marriage to the love of your life? When the character lines are erased, where might have the character of the moment of that particular memory have gone? Each subtle pull of the fingers, tightening ever so gently, takes away what life intended you remember. The scar from falling in the river on oysters, the laugh lines from the comedy club, a night spent with friends to the minutest engravings left behind after the worst breakup, where has it gone? Holding the lifeless furry body of your best friend after getting hit by the car, where is the life line on you to connect you to that moment? It’s gone. This is life found in the memories of your skin, character lines of where you have been, and what your soul has experienced.
The attention placed on the soul must be greater than the attention placed on the outward appearance if one is to remain forever young.