The other day, I was getting ready for the first time since recovering from a few weeks of flu-like sickness. I had been working from home, on the couch, and hadn’t touched fresh air in a full week. Prior to this sickness forcing me into a full week of cave-dwelling hibernation mode, I had experienced a minor cold that still allowed me to function like a normal human being. I was working, running errands, and working out like usual.

One key difference to my routine was that I didn’t pay any mind to how I looked or what other’s may be thinking about my appearance. My public ensemble consisted of comfy sweats, no makeup and “I just rolled out of bed” hair. I was the perfect picture of “I don’t care at all what I look like right now because I’m sick and just need to get stuff done.” I certainly wasn’t going to be impressing anyone with my runny nose, hacking cough, and 50-year-old chain-smoker pitch, so why even bother making my hair look nice? Getting ready felt like a waste of time and energy.

So instead of putting any energy into my appearance, I tried to pay extra mind to how I was acting towards others. Mainly because I know it is all too easy to let a bad day/mood/feeling be projected onto other people. We’ve all been that innocent bystander who, by a product of unfortunate timing, receives the brunt of some stranger’s glass-half-empty, pissed-at-the-world attitude. I try really hard to actively NOT be that person, especially when my mood suggests otherwise. Being conscious of this helps me counteract my negative feelings into positive actions, and to assure that I don’t slip into “woe is me, I’m having a bad day and too consumed to be nice” asshole mode.

But my desire to do this was interestingly heightened when I took into account how bad I was probably looking. Let me explain the backstory: Pretty much from ages 12-22 I had horrible acne that plagued me with insecurity. I was pretty good at covering up the redness with makeup, but the thought of going out in public, without makeup on, was a nightmare. I would have worn makeup to the gym, to the doctor while sick, to make a 5-minute public appearance, even when out and about at places where I was guaranteed not to know a soul.

In the last year or so, I have cleared my acne and slowly developed the courage to leave the house without makeup. Last week, I knew I was looking less than stellar, towing around my sick makeup-less face- something I had never really done before. Not only was I not wearing makeup, but my nose was red, my eyes were glazed over, I was pale as a ghost and the bags under my eyes could have been seen from the moon without a telescope. I didn’t care when I left the house, but I was feeling a bit uneasy about it as I stepped out in public. Plain and simple, I looked UGLAY.

I couldn’t control my ugly at the moment, but I could use it as a catalyst to amplify my positivity and kindness. My appearance was serving me absolutely no purpose at all: it didn’t look pretty, or friendly, or warm, or approachable. It made me want to emphasize kindness and helpfulness and generosity, EVEN more, because I knew my appearance wasn’t doing me any favors in the approachability department. Just simple little things like helping to clean up apples that someone spilled all over the grocery store floor, asking how the check-out person’s day is, and letting the sweet old grandpa sneak ahead of me in line, even though I was in an impatient, headache-pounding hurry. My insecurities lifted and my own mood brightened as I saw people receptive and grateful to a few little acts of kindness. I totally forgot that I looked like a complete nightmare. I’m sure nobody else cared, either.

The next week, aka the week that I picked up full-time residency on the couch, I paid zero attention to the way I looked. In fact, I didn’t wear my contacts the whole week, so I truly couldn’t even tell you what I looked like- although I am quite certain that I looked like a character from a horror movie. And I didn’t care in the slightest.

Oddly, once I did get better, one of the first things I wanted to do was put on make-up and a cute outfit. I was so excited to get back into the habit of getting ready, and of feeling like a female. I so badly wanted to feel pretty after not giving my appearance any TLC for a few weeks. I was so eager to present what felt like my rejuvenated, fresh-faced self to the world.

I was layering on coat after coat of mascara one morning, obsessing over whether or not my slightly smaller eye now matched my other eye, dousing concealer over my still-tired bags, spreading foundation over my dehydrated, healing face, stepping back and forth in front of a mirror to make sure my outfit looked good from different angles and spraying my curled hair. I felt like I looked nice, but the process wasn’t as fun as I’d anticipated. It felt like a bit of a chore. I froze when I realized 45 minutes had passed.

I had a life-changing epiphany.

The juxtaposition of my “sick” morning routine and my “I feel good” morning routine- Blew. My. Mind. Just a few days prior, my getting ready consisted of zero effort into my appearance. I didn’t care that one of my eyes is smaller, that I had tired bags below them, that my summer tan has long disappeared, or that my haircut is uneven (because I cut it myself). I walked out the door with a positive attitude (forced, in part, to counteract my sickness negativity) and amplified by the awareness that my usual subtly pink-lipped smile and my alert, life-loving eyes probably didn’t gesture any effect when I looked like a zombie.

On this day, however, my routine consisted of making sure I looked presentable. That’s how my morning routine had been for the last 10 years. This habit isn’t out of egoism, but rather, because the typical, habitual process of “getting ready” is a checklist of appearance items like putting on deodorant and brushing teeth. It’s how everyone I’ve ever met gets ready in the morning. I didn’t really ever consider other options. Like what if I spent my mornings getting ready by nourishing my soul? Why not spend just 10 minutes trying to look good and 50 trying to feel good, trying to focus on how I can make the world good that day, how I can impact the lives of others, how I can go out of my way to be more kind and helpful than usual, than yesterday? What if my morning routine was soul-centric instead of appearance-centric?

What if we broke the habits of thinking that “getting ready” was strictly an aesthetic process? What if we made a checklist of perspectives to take on during the day? Or brainstormed kind actions we could do for others that day? I really like the world I’m imagining if we all spent as much time thinking about how we can be a better person that day as we did making sure our outfits are appropriate for the occasion.

That thought truly flipped my world upside down. Now don’t get me wrong, it is so important to feel good on the outside. I’m not saying I’m about to go toss all my beauty products off a cliff and never put any effort into my appearance. Outward appearances are important. Feeling attractive is important. We all have exquisite beautiful outward characteristics that we should rock and emphasize, not diminish. BUT it shouldn’t lead our lives. And I fear that it often does lead our lives without us knowing it. It’s how we start our day. It’s the first thing we put emphasis on each day. 

So from now on, I’m changing up my morning routine. I’m making it a soul-centric experience. I still haven’t decided exactly what this will look like, but I do know that the results I imagine will come from this are amazing– and I would love if you would join me. Let me know if you have any creative ways to kickstart a soul-centric morning.

Cheers to 2019 and to many beautiful mornings ahead.

Keep Smiling,

Jen