The big reveal

It occurred to me the other morning, as I plucked yet another gray hair that just six weeks ago I paid my stylist good money to conceal, that human beings spend the decades between the ages of 10 and 70 perfecting the art of the cover-up.

Consider a young child. If you've never spent time with young children, I recommend you pay a visit to a friend who has one or two running around. Or, keep reading this blog. Kids are refreshingly, sometimes painfully, candid. They gleefully point out the obvious fact that the person ringing up your Target purchases has neon green hair and an earring in her nose and very loudly inquire about the activities of the person in the bathroom stall next to you.

Now consider someone in the over-70 set. After spending 60ish years holding your tongue and putting on a happy face for the outside world, you earn a pass to say exactly what you please at the precise moment it enters your mind. Things like, "If I didn't have shorts any longer than those I don't guess I'd leave the house" and "If I were you, I'd take two weeks off, and then retire."

It's the years in between, the so-called "best of our lives", that are rife with covering up everything from gray hairs and post-pregnancy abs to true feelings and dark thoughts.

Think about the last time you asked someone how they were. Did you really expect an honest response? More importantly, did you really want an honest response? If you're like me, the answer to both questions is no.

Most of the time, the person doing the asking doesn't have the time or inclination to take the next step in the conversation that would be required if the other person said, "Actually, I'm having a terrible day. I woke up dreading coming to work because what I do is mind-numbingly unfulfilling and out-of-step with my skills and passions." Fortunately for people like me, most of us don't give honest answers. Instead, we smile and reply, "I'm great!" Or fine. Or doing well. Or whatever your own pat response is.

But as I waged my futile battle against the wiry white hairs that persist in populating the hairline around my forehead, I realized that I wasn't just wasting money on semi-permanent hair color but that I was also wasting a lot of energy trying to cover up my myriad flaws, from my mushy abs to my short temper.

So, on this, the eve of 2012, I am resolving to shift my energy and focus from covering up to shaping up.

Rather than buying yet another poncho-cut top (because, let's face it, that trend has got to be headed out soon anyway), I'm going to exercise and cut back on sweets. Rather than modeling patience in public but indulging my temper in the privacy of my home, I'm going to remind myself that "A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." (Proverbs 29:11) 

Instead of pretending that I'm eager to climb a corporate ladder that, in truth, repulses me, I'm resolving to be a good contributor to the employer who provides me with bill-paying money and family-raising flexibility while also practicing the craft of writing with the hope that it will some day feed my bank account as much as it feeds my soul.

And every now and then, just for kicks, I may even indulge myself a little pre-geriatric frankness when someone asks, "How are you today?"