“You’re more beautiful in person,” he says.
I look up from my checkbook, as I’m writing out the amount for groceries. We’ve been chatting as I unload my basket and he rings me up. I’m only half-paying attention; I have budgets on my mind. Worries over money. Worries, always worries.
He studies the image on my driver’s license, then hands it back. I look at him. Really look at him. Late twenties. African American. Cheeks as round and full as apples. A twinkle in his eye. Picture-perfect teeth.
“You definitely look better now,” he insists, flashing his smile.
“You’re kind,” I say. “But I was thinner then.”
“Women,” he laughs.
And he goes on: “Thinner isn’t always better. You’re beautiful in person. Sweet and friendly. And you must have good genes, because you sure don’t look your age.”
Ah yes. The “good for my age” qualifier.
I accept the compliment, knowing that’s how he intended it, knowing that when I look in the mirror, too often I only see the negative.
The lines are short, there is no one behind me, there is no pressing need to hurry and I admit, I’m in a good mood – for no particular reason except that the sun is shining and I slept six hours. I’m feeling strong. I’m feeling focused. I don’t know what any of it means.
I’m on the verge of something, but I don’t know what. Lately, taking chances seems less frightening, so I’m taking chances. Trying new things. New foods. New places. Switching it up.
Changes
I’m not at my usual supermarket, but I’ve taken the meandering path to a smaller store that someone recommended. I’ve found a handful of great deals – local produce, and organic. There is Greek yogurt on special, new bulk coffee, which is saving me a few dollars.
There has been renewed commitment to walking, to recapturing exercise as my morning must.
There is my son, who has been cooking dinner for the both of us. There is my seeing him from a greater distance – the cut of his jaw, suddenly more angular, his arms more muscled; he is growing up.
I’m poking holes in my habits. I’m slipping on new ways of thinking. I’m seeking pockets of solitude so I can work through an idea.
I’m scratching to survive. I’m hoping to flourish.
Guts
There is order and certainty in routine. There is also stagnation. So I opt for this evolution: commitment to my daily maintenance, talking to strangers, chatting in check-out lines, cultivating new friendships. There is saying yes and forcing myself to yes if that’s what it takes, the courage of yes without knowing the outcome – yes to stepping out of my head, to getting out of my bed, to standing tall in my own way.
Switching up grocery stores, schedules, and roles (even in small measure) means presenting new opportunities. There are changing responsibilities, the broader view, the desire for something new, as yet unimagined.
A compliment from a cashier, simply because of a smile?
I’ll take it, and gladly, leaving the store with a bounce in my step and an added sense of well-being. I’m accepting these good moments and learning not to question them. I am giving myself permission to get out of my own way.
Futures
I recognize that I am not emotionally needy; I appreciate the freedom in this fact. And I find myself gearing up, though I don’t know how and I don’t know for what. I’m risking small changes, anticipating a future that is approaching rapidly, steering into a state of being I cannot put my finger on.
Whatever it is, the momentum is building. Whatever it is, it is up to me to shape it. Whatever it is, I am determined to make it good.
- Do you ever find that change for the sake of it energizes you?
- When you’re on the verge of something new, do you go with it – even into the unknown?
- Must growing older mean narrowed opportunities?
- When it comes to facing the future, can we teach ourselves fearlessness?
This post just makes me smile. And I can’t wait to see what unfolds next for you.
Thanks, April. You know when you sense something – and you have no idea what or why? Ever have that feeling?
Me no likey unknown. I’ll just hang out here in my safe little burrow…;)
Sending hugs to your burrow. (And we all know there is no escaping change. But I’m hoping we can tweak it in our favor, even when the odds make it look like it’s going the other way… ) xoxo
In order of your questions:
Friday we went to a new little Indian restaurant, Indian generally is not my thing (especially highly-spiced food, New Englander that I am). But let’s give it a try. I unknowingly got the spiciest dish. Interesting, and although still not my favorite, now I know I can handle that stuff and evaluate it better.
New, almost by definition, means into the unknown. I leave myself escape routes (unlike Fran), and then am fine with it. I didn’t have to eat the Indian dinner I was served, but I did.
Aging produces changes in our opportunities. More are opening for your sons, they have narrowed for me. That’s life – good. Did a measured 5K run on Saturday, with 10 minute miles and a T-shirt at the end. That oh-so-slow rate now feels good for me at 68. Long past any personal bests in that area. Get real.
Just do it. I don’t know if we teach ourselves that, or if we get so we don’t care (that’s a mixed aspect of folks wearing purple when we age).
P.S. Loved your story.
I wonder if Angelina Jolie has a good driver’s license photo…
I definitely get the gotta-get-out-of-a-rut feeling so I naturally make little changes on a regular basis. Change equals life. Lack of it may equate to a little bit like dying.
Belinda, I saw Angelina Jolie’s high school yearbook photo the other day. Pretty good, but her lips looked like they had just been punched, even back then.
Pictures of us lie. And it can go both ways showing us as more or less beautiful than we are, at least in our minds…
I try not to look at pictures of myself. And I never compare my family and friends to the people I see on the big screen.
My tolerance for change is like a sine graph – it depends on my mood. But I find, that when I’m resisting change the most? It’s when I need it the most.
Nicely put, Jane. And when you’re resisting change (and sense that you need it) – does time help? Or do other voices convince you?
@Paul – Escape routes. I like it! (And I like your story about the spicy foods as well.)
@Belinda and @Wolf – Somehow, I don’t feel too badly about Angelina’s driver’s license picture. Or her lip-look as a teen. Seems to me she’s managed to do okay… 😉
@Gandalfe – Interesting remark. Very interesting remark.
Change has been so much apart of my life these past 4 years that I have learned to flow with it–or sometimes just deal with it. I have changed how I do things lately– like letting people in on my little secret–and it has been scary but felt so right. Leaving my comfort zone is something I hope to always do; I know it won’t be easy, and I know I wan’t always like it, but I do want to have that constant challenge because of how much I grow.
Oh, I loved this post. I love creating routines – they give me a sense of comfort and security; if I’m able to maintain them I feel as though I’m in control of my life (an illusion, I know).
I also love breaking habits – I’m a grand national champion at that. It sounds silly to say it’s an ‘adventure’ to visit a new grocery store or explore a different route home, but I suppose I have (thankfully) a very quiet life and these little things add a bit of zing.
Nice to get compliments, too, not that I’ve had any for a while…in fact not since a cashier looked at my driving license and said I actually looked a lot like Shelley Long (back when Cheers was running…yes, that long ago); someone else told me the same thing a few days. It was the hair, no doubt, with the same first name.
I am at this point in my life both fighting and embracing change. The kids leaving the nest, my unemployment could mean embracing the thought of a new career. All changes that I fear and yet I seem to feel the same fresh new invigoration that you describe.
I too have been seeing things in new light every day. It has its rewards and also some trepidation.
I truly think our lives parallel some.
I think you’re right, NAS. Trepidation, yes. And right about other things as well. Those parallels. (Sending positive waves your way!)
It was the checkbook thing. Some people can’t resist a person who will take the time to write out a check vice flash the card and run. I’m just sayin’… ;O)
Ha! I think it has to do with taking the time to smile and make eye contact. (And I like writing checks! How else will I retain my fine penmanship? :))
I love what Belinda said about your piece. I resist change. But when it happens and I reflect, I realize it was exactly what I needed. I’m more fearful about anticipating change.