Contentment

I read an article today that struck a chord with me on multiple levels. The article discusses how a woman who is happy with herself is the beauty industry’s nightmare. What can she be sold (or he for that matter) when there isn’t some perceived “flaw” to fix?

This covers so much more than the beauty industry. This is really huge.

In the fitness world, it’s all about aesthetics. People workout to “look good naked”. 95% of the population doesn’t start a fitness program to increase their cardiovascular health, decrease their A1C numbers, or improve their range of motion and flexibility. They do it to change their appearance. To have a “summer body” or complete a weight loss challenge. People go on crazy elimination diets (I have too!) because we are trying to change something. You can’t sell to prospective clients if they already love the way they look and feel.

I read another article that had this to say about going grey:

“My attitude is this: age is nothing to be ashamed of, and therefore grey hair is nothing to be ashamed of.  Covering my greys with toxic chemicals would not only be hazardous to my precious health, it would be voting with my dollars for an industry that profits mightily from making women feel insecure and ashamed of our bodies starting in childhood.  Covering my greys would be saying “yes” to the notion that I, as a woman, am only valuable or attractive if I look “young.”  It would be saying yes to the idea that age, and its physical signs, are something to be feared, denied and hidden – that I need to pretend to be something other than I am to be deemed worthy.  It would mean I agree with the belief that a woman’s only power stems from her being “sexy” in public.”

I colored my hair for the last time last December. My grey is showing. I really don’t care. I’m actually kind of curious to see where it will come in. Will it be a streak of awesome around my temples? Who knows?! But I want to find out.

I have no more interest in keeping up with the Jones’. I think it’s awesome that you drive that amazing car. I have no desire to go into debt to buy a car I can’t afford to impress you. (I used to.) Having contentment bleeds over into every other aspect of life; financial, relational, spiritual, physical – all of it. It is all so very related.

I will be 40 this summer. I’m all out of caring what people think. I’m mostly content as an adult for the first time. 

If I am content with myself and my life, and I want for nothing, how then can I be marketed to, sold to, or upgraded upon?

The thing is, when we finally don’t care anymore it frees us up to concentrate on things that actually matter; giving our time to causes that are dear to our passions and using our talents. Constant consumerism feels wasteful. Chasing youth in a bottle becomes an exercise in futility.

Contentment sure feels a lot more like life and actual living.

Sign. Me. Up.