Crow’s feet. Freaking crow’s feet. I woke up and I just noticed theyre there. i will never tire of asking “how did this happen?!”. I am not the type who obsesses about looks and physical appearance. OK. Maybe just a wee bit. Im still female. A female who is obviously getting old.
I got fixated on the ever prominent lines below my eyes for almost 2 weeks now and im still obsessing about it. And might probably obsess about it for a few more months. I only have 2 words to explain how I felt about it.
PANIC ATTACK.
How I obsess about something is a very funny thing. Crazy kind of funny. you see, I would perpetually look at this small mirror of mine, technically every 3mins. Like I was hoping that glaring at those lines rather fiercely, willing them to fade away into oblivion, would actually make them do that. fade away into oblivion. I would also go to the bathroom when I feel the need to stretch to look at a LARGER mirror crossing my fingers that my smaller mirror is playing tricks on me and that my lines are just actually a very strange and horrific figment of my imagination. A vision conjured by my petulant mind trying to get the best of me and shock me out of my wits to make me hyperventilate. But alas, the lines are still there. stubbornly prominent as ever.and sooner or later they would multiply faster than a dozen rabbits placed in a small cage.
Ive never thought about getting old before. Ive never given much thought about physical deterioration as well. The obvious manifestations that my body is starting to show the effects of natural forces are starting to get more and more evident and had somewhat forced me to introspect deeper. The thoughts of getting old (whether single or married) caused me too much anxiety. No. don’t get me wrong. I am not anxious in the “omg im getting old and wrinkly” kind of anxiety. (maybe about 5% of it) but the main reason for the anxiety is fear that I haven’t really done what I was meant to do. There MUST be a reason why Im here. there has to be. God has given us a time frame, a deadline for whatever it is that He assigned us to do and getting old, feeling like I haven’t really done much for God is making me anxious. No one wants to live a meaningless unproductive life in every aspect. may it be spiritual or otherwise.
Getting old also poses another enigma for me. The hope and faith that there has to be more to life than “living life to the fullest, making the most of out of it and enjoying life like there’s no tomorrow”. Some people might disagree on this, and admittedly, my outlook regarding life was pretty much the same a couple of years back. No. nothing monumental happened that made me change my perception and question that motto I mentioned. It is the notion that my life here on earth is really not about me. a huge chunk of it is, but not ENTIRELY about me. I think i was distracted with the pursuit of my own selfish hapiness that i forgot what should matter and should significantly affect me as a christian.the first thing that came to mind is a life of service. im not saying that my hapiness is irrelevant. how can i share rays of sunshine when i cant shine myself? What i think is that, being selfless, deflecting the focus from myself AT THE RIGHT MOMENTS is the whole point. Not an easy feat im pretty sure. we have innate urges for self survival and that also entails selfishness. and most of the time self indulgence.
But when we think long term, i wonder if worldy selfish hapiness is all worth it.
A life of service can be easily misinterpreted by many. I honestly think, and at some point i find it amusing, that God is creative enough to give us our own versions of things that whatever variations of the actual output of these interpretations would STILL result in something good. For instance, my own interpretation of a life of service is reaching out for people within my reach. a broken hearted churchmate. a depressed co worker. a new friend whom i feel, needs someone to talk to. others with enough resources would interpret it as charity by means of financing church ministries. for some, it could be a whole lot more.
I just wish, crow’s feet being a reminder that time is of the essence and all, that i am doing what i am supposed to do here, that i am responsible enough to figure it out and apply whatever i have to fully utilize these talents and gifts, and that i am living a life of service, based on my capabilities and own understanding.
