Conscious Choice: Here’s Lookin’ at Me, Kid

May 2004 | Body & Mind Health

Here’s Lookin’ at Me, Kid

by Darlene E. Paris

When I look in the mirror, I don’t always see the image of a beautiful woman staring back. I see my left front tooth I chipped last year while eating a bowl of unpitted dates.

Oh, the defective tooth isn’t all that obvious. The chip is on the side of my tooth and friends say they can’t see it unless they look closely and carefully. My dentist disagrees. He keeps urging me to get my tooth fixed. The procedure, he says, is relatively simple. First, he’ll file it down to a tiny nub and then attach a crown close to the color of my other teeth. He promises that when he’s done, I’ll have a nice, white dazzling smile. “You’re a beautiful lady, but you’ll look even better once you get that tooth crowned,” he says. Interestingly, I was ready to plop down 500 dollars, a down payment to get the work done — until my dentist said that. It brought up an old childhood wound that haunts me even today, that I’m not okay just the way I am.

My feelings of inferiority must have started in grade school when I had to wear glasses. I chose the cutest spectacles I could find, but when I wore them to school the kids laughed and called me four eyes. That night, I convinced my parents to buy me contact lenses.

Thirty-five years later, my tooth just happens to be the latest flaw I think needs fixing. There are others: the brown spot on the side of my right nose, the dark spots underneath my chin and that stubborn patch of gray that won’t go away no matter how much hair coloring I use.

I know I’m not the only one who’s dissatisfied with the way they look. Television’s “Extreme Makeover,” a reality series featuring people who undergo dramatic physical changes for better (and sometimes for worse) echoes what’s happening in our world. We’re preoccupied with the way we look, and technological advances in the beauty industry have made it possible for us to change whatever it is we don’t like about ourselves. Nowadays, everything can be fixed, and in our fast food society, it can be fixed fast. If you don’t like your nose, consider plastic surgery. Not happy with the extra flab around your waist? Try liposuction. Dissatisfied with the length of your hair? How about a weave? Whatever Mother Nature didn’t give us at birth we can now pay to have “put right.”

As a spiritual seeker, I often wonder if these procedures really make us feel better about ourselves, or are they just a band aid covering a deeper pain. Do these procedures help us feel more grounded? Do they help us feel more peaceful within?

When I’m practicing yoga, I often learn lessons I can apply to my everyday life. In a recent yoga class, I discovered a pattern that I wasn’t conscious of before. I noticed that even as I’m doing yoga, I focus on my physical limitations rather than my strengths. I judge myself harshly for not being able to touch my feet as I’m doing a forward bend and fail to honor my ability to stretch my arms all the way to my calves. Looking around me, I notice that the other students are touching their feet and I want to be as flexible.

My yoga teacher noticed how frustrated I became during my practice. She said something that day that I now remember every time I look in the mirror. Once I begin to accept my body exactly as it is, she counseled, my body will open, and I’ll be able to do a forward bend. After class, I thought about the lesson I learned on my yoga mat, and realized that it is all about self-acceptance. I went home and started affirming each day that I accept myself exactly as I am. After reciting this affirmation for about three months, however, I noticed that I still focused on my flaws.

A friend of mine suggested I try something new. If I stared lovingly at myself in the mirror for a few minutes every day, she suggested, self-acceptance would surely come. I did try this for about a month and, quite frankly, grew tired of striving for self-acceptance. Yet, in a profound insight, the weariness I felt within brought about a resolution to accept myself exactly as I am — chipped tooth, brown spots, gray hair and all.

And, you know, I’m becoming more comfortable with my imperfect smile. After all that gazing, I’m learning to look at my so-called flaws differently. Even though I have enough money to get my tooth fixed, I’m not sure I’ll have the procedure done. After all, the things I’d like to change about myself are the features that make me indisputably unique. And this chipped tooth is a trait money just can’t buy.

Darlene E. Paris is a Chicago-based writer specializing in spiritual matters.

Recommend this page to a friend

Top Ten pages recommended to friends: