The Boon of Wrinkles

The Boon of Wrinkles

Those crinkles under the eye that mean movement, the creases of my cheek almost matching a semi-circle departing from the edge of my mouth travelling into the caverns of my nose and down the other side...these are the markers of time that I'm so excited to see because they mean momentum: they mean change.

You have no idea how hard I've worked to get here–to regain lines of feeling. It has taken four years to see my face almost even, that instead of strange tingling pins and needles I sense cool fingertips touching my chin.

My eye still trembles under the force of keeping my cheek taut, like my legs in some yoga positions. I am more proud of my face than my legs, however. In yoga stretching and softening, softening and stretching leads to less shaking in a fairly short time with regular practice. Physical therapy on my jaw means coaxing muscles which are dormant under sleeping nerves into action. When you can't sense your muscles, it's an incredible task to make them move and is a long process.

I will say this to those who fear lines: lines are your grace. They are the connection to your story...to pinched eyes, to squints of understanding, to bursting guffaws and stains from days in the sun. They represent the peeling of skin and the years you were lucky enough to have lived.

Lines are a privilege. Not everyone has the chance to carve them and let them sink in. Some people only live through soft peelings, baby fat never solidified. Others may lose their movement through paralysis (like me) or other neurologic difficulties.

I am proud of my lines. Maybe years ago I wanted to smooth them out and "grow old gracefully". Now the smallest trace of one equals mobility: it equals living and regaining of life. 

I am grateful for every day of motion my skin shows.

Photo: 

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi