Aging Grays-fully

I've been thinking about no longer dying my hair, which I've been doing since my early 30s. I'm almost 44, and because of genetics and hair dye I'm often assumed to be younger. I realize in the grand scheme I'm still fairly young, but if I stop coloring my hair, I definitely won't look as young. In fact, I might actually look middle-aged. Gasp!

I remember clearly that when those first grays began coming in, quite conspicuously in my part, I'd pluck them. It wasn't long before I considered that the plucking might be exacerbating the issue, but I couldn't just let them go, and so naturally (ha!) I turned to hair dye. I remember thinking that I was too young to have gray hair…in retrospect, my mind postulates, "Said who?"

I don't know whether other cultures are as fixated as we Westerners are on youthfulness, which we seem to equate with goodness. On the contrary, we consider aging to literally be bad. In reality of course aging is neither good nor bad--it just is. It happens to everyone, and there's absolutely nothing shameful about it (I'll say more about this later). That said, if an alien watched American television for a day, it would assume from all the commercials for anti-aging products that showing signs of aging is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a human and must be stopped at all costs!

Authenticity has become a buzz word in recent years, perhaps thanks in part to Brené Brown's 2010 TEDx Talk, though likely more globally in response to the cultural commercialism that's been snowballing since the 1950s and expanding with breakneck speed in this millenium. Each decade ushers in bigger houses, more must-have gadgets, and literally swankier everything from kitchen sinks to garden tools to workout clothes—there's no limit on what can must be stylish these days. And when it comes to one's appearance, stylish equates with youthful.

Consider skinny jeans. Are there really any women over the age of 23 who think skinny jeans are comfortable? And yet we've all managed to buy into the notion that if our attire isn't sleek, we look frumpy. Better to be unable to breathe than be frumpy and comfortable, right? Because it's not about comfort. But I digress.

Authenticity is an integral part of yoga. On the mat we let go of the forces outside of us, and we drop inside ourselves, becoming fully present in the body and aware of mental formations as they arise—for instance, thoughts like "I'm too x" and "I should be able to x" and so forth. We peel away the layers that our socialization has piled on us throughout our lives, and we get clearer about who we are at our core and what truly matters. We come to understand the futility of resisting change and the freedom of embracing it.

As a yoga teacher, I often come up against my own engrained notions about physical health and beauty, which causes me to ponder whether I'm conveying yogic lessons the way I intend. My goal has always been to teach students not to care how a pose looks, but how it feels in the body, and my hope is that they become less concerned off the mat with outer appearance and more interested in what's happening within.

This doesn't mean I think we should all ditch the makeup and the hair dye and the trendy clothes, but I do wonder if being my best at teaching requires that I at least consider those things, i.e. what superficial expectations I've personally bought into and what I'm willing to release. How authentically am I willing to lead my own life, most importantly for myself, but also as an example for my students and my children, especially my daughter. What am I teaching her when I hide my hair as it is now and hang onto the past in trying to maintain my dark brown locks?

The truth is those locks are no more. I'm often surprised when my hair grows in a little just how much gray there is, and I've become aware over the last year just how deep the desire has been to not let anyone see that gray, as if it's somehow shameful. What in the world?! Why is gray hair such a big deal?

From a yogic perspective, it's interesting that a woman of a certain age, who stops worrying over her appearance, might be referred to in our society as someone who has "let herself go"--as a bad thing. In yoga we regularly talk about letting go as a very good thing. What if we learned to let go of our notions of what beauty looks like at each age and stage and embraced our natural changes as beautiful?

There are phenomenal women everywhere already doing this—embracing gray as well as fuller figures and stretch marks and wrinkles. So to be clear, there's nothing special about me letting my gray shine through for all the world to see. It's only special in that I'm making this decision for me and what it means to me to live more authentically.

It won't be easy to look at myself in the mirror and not wish some of that gray wasn't there, but I can start shifting my perspective once I stop hiding. In fact, that's the only way I will change that internal dialogue from one of shame to one of acceptance and love.

Disclaimer: I fully reserve the right to change my mind, and I'm not throwing out my makeup or my skinny-ish jeans just yet. 😜