Frown lines

Ever since one of my girlfriends told me she had had Botox injections in her forehead, I have been obsessed with frown lines. It was like one day I woke up with these lines between my eyebrows, like they had just magically appeared overnight. I had never noticed them before, although I realize they must have been there for some time.

I've always taken my skin for granted, never worrying about wrinkles or age spots or laugh lines. After all, I always had nice skin like my mother, or at least that is what I had been told my whole life. But wait, hold on a sec - what's that between your eyebrows, Mom? Why, it's the exact same pattern of lines that I have! Darn genetics.

OK, I am approaching 40 - I'll be 39 next month - so a few lines on my face are normal. And as a yogi, I'm not supposed to care about something as shallow as wrinkles. So why did I spend an entire road trip to Maine last summer, staring in growing distaste at my frown lines in the passenger side mirror? Why am I so obsessed with wrinkles? I am a little embarrassed to admit that I even ordered these things called "Frownies", adhesive strips that you wear at night that purportedly erase frown lines - a Botox alternative, if you will. (By the way, the stupid things don't seem to work. $24.95 plus tax and shipping down the drain.)

I suppose my fixation with wrinkles is a symptom of a much deeper issue - a fear of aging. The lines on my face are an irrefutable sign that I am getting older. Like many others, I haven't yet come to terms with my own mortality. Fear of aging is pervasive in our society today, so I guess it's not surprising that the mere glimpse of my frown lines in the mirror can bring up feelings of panic, revulsion, and denial.

There is also the societal pressure, especially for women, to look younger, to deny our age, to cover the signs of a life lived with passion and emotion - with creams and makeup and cosmetic interventions like Botox and collagen injections. It's difficult to embrace our aging faces and bodies, to celebrate our older, wiser, and more experienced selves.

The more rational and less superficial voice inside my head tells the fearful, vain, and ego-driven voice that aging has its own rewards (wisdom, self-knowledge, opportunity for introspection, feeling more comfortable in our own skin), that I should focus on my inner strength and health, and the blessings in my life (it all comes back to gratitude), and who cares about a few lines on my forehead? And even as the media bombards me with air-brushed images of young, sexy women and celebrities who spend a fortune on cosmetic surgery and expensive creams to look half their age, I try to listen to this deeper, wiser (and yes, older) voice.

At a yoga retreat for women that I attended a few years ago, I learned the following mantra:

I am blissful, bountiful, beautiful

Excel, excel, fearless!

What a powerful and potentially life-altering message, if only we could fully internalize and believe it. And so I continue to repeat this mantra to myself on a regular basis, to remind myself of my true nature - powerful, loving, kind, strong, and beautiful (both inside and out). And I sit quietly with the feelings of fear and insecurity, acknowledge them without judgement or attachment, and then let them go.

I wish I could say that I am ready to throw out the Frownies, to stop colouring my hair, to end my quest for effective anti-aging creams and serums for good. Unfortunately, I am not quite there yet. But I am willing to consider these things, and to continue my inner work to come to terms with my own mortality and embrace the aging process. Who's with me?