Seth Godin asks this question:

When no one is looking and you’re not trying, what shows on your face?

We have a default setting, an arrangement of muscles that gives our mouth and eyes a look. Some have, as a friend of mine says, “resting bitchy face.” People rely so much on reading faces that even though you might not intend it, people are making an assumption about your mood and your approachability.

I can remember my mother saying to me when I was being particularly scowly and dour, “Just smile a little bit.”  I never thought of my mother as particularly wise, but she was right.  My resting face needs some work.  Well, maybe less work and more reflection of a life well lived, of pleasures deeply savored, of a receptivity to what is here now and what is coming.

I am currently studying Somatic Experiencing, a profoundly beautiful method for treating trauma.  In SE, there is a concept called pendulation, which means a subtle and gradual oscillation between the activated trauma and its counter – say a feeling of calm, or relative safety.

When I think of this in relationship to what Seth is talking about and the feeling in my face, I wonder about letting that feeling of calm or pleasure or enjoyment flood my face.  Try it.  To me, it feels almost like melting the mask, like letting the bones soften.  I like it. Then “pendulating” between the old mask, and the new softer feeling.  Taking little sips of that new feeling lets me move gently toward it.

I think that since my daughter ran away, my face has felt like a frozen mask of hurt and sorrow.  I have wanted some help with that from my trusty dermatologist.  But I think that the real help can come from within, from letting the pendulum of my awareness swing toward love, toward the way I feel when I stroke my cat Ivy’s belly, toward the deep, deliciousness of feeling my horse Sanne’s nose on my lips.  Beautiful.  Orienting toward the horizon of softness and delight, so that when the big waves come I know where up is.