The title is an advertising blurb for liquor a product, and that it is supposed to project the product in a positive light. It probably alludes to the common belief that aging makes wine better tasting and smoother. But perfect? I doubt it.
There are labels that give us the number of years a certain wine has gone through in the aging process. I’m not a wine connoisseur or sommelier, the French term for a true wine expert, but from what I’ve learned, the rule of thumb is something like the longer (e.g., 12 years), the better the quality, the greater the value.
From wine, let’s now turn our focus on people like us, who are in their 60s and 70s. Are we aging toward perfection? Do we command a high value for having aged this long?
The inconvenient truth is that many of us have not aged physically well. For example, when I met recently with my college classmates, I could see that time has not been kind to them. Some shuffle when they walk. One was hiding his bald spots by wearing a cap. All of us have unsightly belly bulges.
To stave off Mother Time, many aged women spend time and money removing blemishes on their faces, dyeing their hair jet black and sporting a perfect set of teeth.
Always wanting to be better or the best, we live in a state of constant longing, unsatisfied with who we are and what we have, and striving to achieve an unattainable level of perfection.
I have witnessed seniors who are cantankerous and obstinate, feeling entitled, abusive, demanding and snappish. Someone coined a term for them: C.O.M. or cantankerous old men.
Is it because of our physical debility? Are we going through an internal crisis? Are we dissatisfied with our lives? These people are far from being aged to perfection.
I want to shout in their ears: Hey, it’s OK to be “present imperfect.”
There is a Japanese concept called wabi, which is an attitude of accepting your imperfections and making the most of life. Wabi is said to be defined as “rustic simplicity” or “understated elegance” with a focus on a less-is-more mentality. Wabi is translated to “taking pleasure in the imperfect.”
A great example of wabi-sabi is the old teacup worn rugged from years of tea ceremonies, a way to showcase the beauty of its age and damage rather than hide it. In his book Wabi-Sabi: For Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers, writer Leonard Koren explains: “Wabi-sabi is the beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete, the antithesis of our classical Western notion of beauty as something perfect, enduring and monumental.”
My wife points out the skin blemishes on my face, the wrinkles and crow’s feet around my eyes and the sagging skin. Imperfect, unfinished and mortal.
Life—the fingerprints, scars, and laugh lines—is itself perfectly imperfect, and we should embrace the beauty in that…
So, rather than focusing on aging toward perfection, focus on the richness of your life, blemishes and all.
How can we live life to its fullest?
MY wife points out the skin blemishes on my face, the wrinkles and crow’s feet around my eyes and the sagging skin. I tell her to accept me as I am: Imperfect, unfinished and mortal. I refuse to be fixed or improved on. Accepting someone else’s imperfections, blemishes, and faults, rather than taking them on as a project to be fixed, leaves you the time and emotional energy for enjoying that person.
Wabi-sabi beauty is not about relinquishing self-care, which can be a form of attention and presence in your life. The Japanese tea masters took exquisite care of their pottery, cracked and imperfect as they were. Likewise, you can pamper your body without nipping and tucking it into submission.
“The starting point of cultivating a wabi-sabi beauty is to appreciate the process of aging; Try not to get caught up in wanting to stagnate in one part of your natural progression through life.”
Although it’s important to take care of our bodies, we also have to take care of our mental health by embracing the fact that there are just so many parts of us we cannot change. Rather than stressing about those wrinkles, appreciate the laughter that caused them. Instead of hiding that scar, think of it as a permanent reminder of the adventures you once had.
A balance between appreciating what you have, how you got it and taking time to understand the fleetingness of it all, wabi-sabi is a way to take a step outside the constant influx of messages telling us we should want more. Wabi-sabi is a state of mindfulness, living in the now and finding satisfaction in our lives even when it’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking the opposite.
When you shine through, that’s beautiful…
So, at the last laps (or gasps) of my life, I know I have not become perfect. Maybe I am not wealthy, powerful and famous. But that’s alright. I look forward to liking myself better, that in spite of all my physical defects and blemishes—my thinning hair, wrinkles on my face, bad teeth—I believe I have become better. I would have a full heart.
In one of his columns, Fr. Jerry Orbos tells the story about a boy who asked: “Lolo, I often catch you talking to yourself. Why is that?” The grandfather smiled: “Whenever I need to listen to words of wisdom and good advice, I talk to myself.” That’s a lolo who knows how to put a premium value on himself.
So for human beings, there is no such thing as aged to perfection. The better concept is mellow aging. Just like fine wine or good liquor.
To do that, learn the art of slowing down. Learn to appreciate the value of taking it slowly. “Slow down, you’re going too fast. You got to make the moment last” are lyrics of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Feeling Groovy.”
Festina lente. Make haste slowly. Rather than speed reading and quickly processing complicated texts, as one ad advises: “Don’t just stand there doing something. Sit. Be still.”
I stick to activities that give me space or room for slow absorption and reflection. No wonder I like the films of Yasujiro Ozu, Robert Bresson, Hsiao Chen, or Tsai Ming-liang, which are slow paced and build up to a steady simmer over low fire. My children hate to watch these films with me where nothing seems to be happening.
That’s why I find myself more and more out of place in today’s world, where people want action and quick fixes and fast paced performances. Slow people have no place in this world. People want problems to be fixed right away. They want leaders who act first before thinking. No dilly-dallying. The mantra is Just Do It. Just kill him now.