NEWSFLASH: This is ALL temporary
Develop a mindset of cultivation and care
I recently came across a post by a couple of plastic surgeons and dermatologists commenting on specific beauty routines. When asked about facial guasha, the traditional Chinese practice of stroking the face to promote circulation, they scoffed and guffawed at the practice, both saying the exact same thing: it’s temporary. Their thinking struck me as unwise and imprudent (I confess the word that popped into my mind was stupid). Temporary. That’s like saying eating only temporarily alleviates hunger, drinking only temporarily relieves thirst, and sleep only temporarily eases tiredness.
Why would their seemingly flippant remarks bother me so much? Well, first of all, their mockery indicated that they weren’t considering the logical and practical benefits of the action, one of which is that it helps flush out stagnant, toxin-filled lymphatic fluid that pools in the face. (I’ll explain why this is important in another post.) More importantly, their assertions reflected a pervasive, detrimental mindset: one-and-done.
Backstory digression
When Andrea and I first visited Florence in the 1990s, I vividly remember seeing the spectacular cathedral in the center of town, Santa Maria del Fiore, known informally as the Duomo. If you aren’t familiar with this architectural masterpiece, it is one of the largest churches in the world, whose first stones were laid in 1296, and finally consecrated by Pope Eugenio IV in 1436. The exterior is entirely clad in ornate, intricately patterned white, green, and rose-colored marble, and adorned with 12 sculptures of the apostles. It is situated in the center of Piazza del Duomo, which is ringed by busy streets buzzing with exhaust-spewing cars and swarms of Vespas, turning the once-pristine white marble into endless gradations of dull gray.
At the time, the Gothic monolith was undergoing a massive cleaning effort, starting to the right of the front facade and methodically working around the structure. The stark difference between the cleaned and the untouched was visibly striking. A sign at the entrance explained the processes and when it commenced; if memory serves, we were there about a year into a projected multi-year process. Andrea and I joked that when the army of cleaners finally made their way around the building, the once-cleaned marble at the front would be dirty again, and they would have to start all over.
Life requires maintenance
I reflect on that undertaking from time to time because it exemplifies what life is: constant care and maintenance. I’m certain the irrefutable fact that the Duomo requires continual upkeep is not a deterrent to those tasked with its care. In contrast, our culture desperately wants a one-time fix for everything. We want the easy, one-pill solution. One-and-done.
Our home was built in 1910, and whenever we have the opportunity to work on it, we diligently search for authentic building materials, which are becoming harder to find without visiting specialty stores. The items at the ready are mostly composite or plastic-type materials that are touted as “maintenance-free,” which is a misnomer because, honestly, everything deteriorates to some degree over time. But this notion that maintenance-free is better than the alternative, which requires care, always sits wrong with me because it cultivates the mindset of “set and forget.”
This way of thinking filters into every aspect of people’s lives, undermining health and well-being because it repudiates the expectation of ongoing care. I can’t think of a single health example in which, once a particular problem is solved or a goal is reached, it doesn’t require concerted attention to maintain or manage. The law of nature is that nothing stays the same; it is either progressing or regressing. In that sense, the state of everything is temporary.
A mindset of care
Our minds dictate our actions; this is why I have such a strong aversion to one-and-done. Trust me, I would love it if, when I’m done vacuuming and dusting, I would never have to do it again, but that defies reality. I know, even before I begin cleaning, I’m going to have to do it again in a couple of days. That’s a given.
I wonder if people adopted a cultivation attitude toward their health, they could better maintain it, and it wouldn’t be such a struggle or a yo-yo. If we simply resign ourselves to the fact that every part of our health and well-being requires constant care and feeding—just like bathing and brushing our teeth—every level reached needs the same degree of attention to maintain. Admittedly, despite my own diligent strength training, I start to slip in the amount of weight I can lift if I don’t push the limits every once in a while. I often remind myself that my muscles won’t retain what they aren’t trained.
Be it diet, fitness, sleep, lifestyle, whatever…once we reach our objective, we need to be vigilant in sustaining it because it’s all mostly temporary gains.
There is no one-and-done
This brings me back to the doctors that I referenced earlier, who were so dismissive of non-medical procedures and treatments. On one hand, I’m perplexed about them pooh-poohing a convention that they deemed temporary when, in fact, everything we do to our faces is temporary. Botox? Wears off and needs to be re-administered. Often. Fillers? Those substances shift and dissipate over time. Collagen supplementation? The bottles are on reorder in perpetuity.
On the other hand, although there was probably a modicum of ignorance about natural techniques and the notion of temporary was a rhetorical easy way out, it still struck me as odd reasoning and reinforced this pervasive societal Achilles heel.
My personal goal is to banish the one-and-done mindset and adopt a cultivation and maintenance approach to live well, age great.