Time Erodes Such Beauty
On elephant elbows, perimenopause, and tapping into the energy of the divine universe
We were taking advantage of P being done with work at 6ish on a gorgeous evening. I had confirmed this was not an exercise walk, but a meandering through the neighborhood stroll that might end with us finding a pre-dinner drink somewhere, and was putting on be-seen-in-public clothes and massaging some dry shampoo into my oily day 3 hair when P said, “we’re losing the light, Snavely.” The wind was chilly, so I added a couple more seconds of sun-setting postponement to grab a cardigan to throw around my waist. As we exited the courtyard, P paused and waved his hand through the air in my general vicinity. “I like this look,” he said. “It looks like you just stepped off the page of a catalog.”
Immediately I quipped, which one: Schlumpy and Frumpy? I was in jeans, a lightweight black sweater, hi-top chucks, and as I mentioned, my hair was a little limp on day 3 post wash. P decided it was time for a moratorium on the self-deprecating humor, and even though it is what I EXCEL at, I agreed. The thing is, I had just watched a video that my friend, a film director, had shot of me a few days before. He wanted to stage it so he followed me as I walked under the glorious blooms of the Pink trumpet trees on our street, and then turn to look at the camera. I’d had the non-self-deprecating thought that I liked how I looked in the video, when I watched again and thought OH MY GOD my elbows look like elephant knees. WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?! I’ve since looked in the mirror at the backs of my arms when hanging straight, and it’s wild. Wrinkly folds.
My messed-up mind that was steeped in our youth-obsessed culture since I was wee and had taut elbow skin even thought for a hot second: is there a surgery or cream for loose elbow skin? As if life isn’t hard and devastating enough right now, I should worry about what my elbows look like from behind? (Yes, my enculturated brain tells me. Yes, you should, you crone.)
I needed to ‘name it to tame it,’ write it down so I’d see how ridiculous it looks in black and white, on the page. I needed to share it, to hope more people will find comfort that we all might think these thoughts, but we’re all in this aging / everybody dies boat together. I think of Marmee’s line in 1994’s Little Women, played by Susan Sarandon (the best adaptation in my world).
She sits with Meg and Jo on one of their beds, reflecting on how Meg was treated, and how she felt, when she got dolled up and showed some decolletage at a society ball and got a whole lot of male gaze, and didn’t hate it.
Marmee brushes Jo’s hair and responds: “If you feel your value lies in merely being decorative, I fear that someday you might find yourself believing that’s all you really are. Time erodes such beauty, but what it cannot diminish is the wonderful workings of your mind: Your humor, your kindness, and your moral courage. These are the things I cherish so in you.
“I so wish I could give my girls a more just world. But I know you’ll make it a better place.”
I need this reminder, especially now. Alongside the fear of being disappeared simply for stating that every human has the right to due process and freedom of speech lives my fear of being locked in a cell sans tweezers. I’m in perimenopause and if the jailers are already cruel, misogynistic bullies, how would they treat a bearded woman? I recall that my mother, my own Marmee, also taught me to value moral courage, to face with love and truth those infected with injustice and hate. I’m trying. I thought about it when worried that counter-protestors might show up to the Hands Off rally, how I could shout to them “I love you!” a la Will Ferrell in Elf. I feel like that would be disarming?
I need the reminders I get when I’m talking with S, a friend who is in palliative hospice care up the street from me. I’m recording our conversations to cut into a video for his family to have a visual story of his life, as much as one can capture in such a way. Being with him, thinking about how I can provide this service to others and make it part of my life’s work, is being present with the reality of death, daily. At one point I noted that the presence of that reminder is a gift, to hold death in your mind’s eye as you move through life makes one more aware of the minutiae of the moment, the joys strike deeper, the lows feel more close to the bone, the highs soar into the universe.
In one of our conversations, he shared about reading what Gregg Braden, a physicist he follows, wrote recently. That the people who are in power are trying to maintain their control by keeping all of us scared and distracted – look over here at this terrible thing we’re doing, no, wait, look at this terrible thing we’re doing – so that we don’t realize the power we have in our own connection to the divine. That if we did recognize that power inherent in each one of us, and see it in one another, and did this collectively? We would stop them from their destruction. It’s a different way in to the messaging we hear from movements for abolition and freedom: there is power in numbers. We are in this together, and only together will we find freedom.
My time recording conversations with S is to serve him, and to serve his family and friends. To provide this record of a glimpse of this life lived. It’s also serving my spirit, showing me that this is what I want to continue to do, and expand my understanding of myself and others and the universe. That if we all tapped into the river and flow of the energy of the universe, the greedy powers that are in charge won’t be able to stop us.
And maybe it would stop that cycle of negativity that tells me my elbows are unacceptable. I would never tell an elephant, eww. You’re a little too wrinkly, friend. I’m trying to speak to myself and this temporary body I’m inhabiting with more love and gentleness, and to tap into the divine energy of the universe in all the ways, big and small.
The video. These trees are BONKERS gorgeous, as are my very well-lived-in elbows, having served me in many moons of holding babies and hitting volleyballs and shooting baskets and hugging friends.