A few years ago, I noticed a brownish mark on my face. Concerned that it may be something ominous, I went to the dermatologist. Anxiously, I pointed it out to the doctor, who took a minute to look at it before saying, "Oh Sweetie, that's just an age spot. We can just give you some cream to make it fade away." I am not sure which was more unsettling: the fact that this woman was my age (or younger) and was calling me "sweetie," or that I was getting "age spots." I would have bought that miracle time reversal cream, but it was one time in which my Scottish heritage and practicality came to my defense. It was just too expensive! I'd have to learn to live with it.
I spent last week with women who wear their age spots with the same sense of pride and nonchalance as a younger person may wear their tattoos. In fact, I'm now of the opinion that these age spots and wrinkles are nature's way of tattooing us. In the same way someone chooses to commemorate a significant person or event or belief in their life through a man-made inking of their skin, we can view our new pigmentations as a commemoration of accumulated time and experience in this body we're inhabiting. Our wrinkles give us texture -- something that adds interest and depth. Like a snowflake, no two people have the exact same pattern and placement.
How fabulous to get to a point of life where you no longer wish to look like or be anyone else but who you are! It's great to admire my natural tattoos and remember all that living that brought them to me.