A Hidden Key To Youthfulness
Through my practice as a facialist, I’ve seen that what often makes a person look old, regardless of chronological age, comes down to one thing: flexibility. And I mean this holistically – both in the body and the mind.
Why do some young people with perfect features sometimes appear older and less vibrant? Conversely, why do some radiate timeless youthfulness? The difference, I believe, is often rooted in their ability to remain supple both physically and mentally.
A rigid mindset has an immediate physical echo. Fixed thinking, stress, or negativity unconsciously tightens the body. This rigidity settles in the jaw, neck, spine, and posture-markers we instinctively associate with aging. The person thus presents as older, not because of their years, but because of their stiffness.
Through guided facial massage and movement, I help release those patterns. My method isn’t about adding something new, it’s about clearing what’s held you back, so your natural ease and brightness can shine through again. Letting go of these deep holding patterns is how we make space for the face and the person to return to a state of innate vitality.
The powerful flip side is that cultivating flexibility is a profound strategy for holistic vitality: Physically, it enhances circulation, mobility, and balance. Mentally, a curious, open mind builds resilience.
This synergy doesn’t just slow functional decline, it actively preserves a youthful presence.
It’s not just about staying agile; it’s about an integrated approach to preserving youthfulness from the inside out.
________
A Body’s Journey Through Time
The other day, I read an article about aging women (I forgot the title), and it made me so happy to finally see the media paying attention to older women’s voices. As a facialist who has worked with over ten thousand faces, I often get asked about the secret of beauty and there really is no one answer. Beauty, like love, has infinite possibilities.
For me, beauty is about returning to yourself. It’s not about looking perfect, but about being perfectly “you”.
We often think beauty belongs only to young and energetic bodies that can wear anything, do anything, like the world is theirs to conquer. But real beauty isn’t locked in one moment of life. It flows and changes, like a river, from childhood to old age, each stage with its own kind of magic and sense of empowerment.
Childhood is pure joy, full of love and carefree, where every day feels like a gift.
Adolescence is wild and bright, full of passion and drama like Romeo and Juliet, ready to burn the world for love. (Though thankfully, most of us grow out of that!)
Adulthood is like a tree in full bloom, strong, steady, and nurturing the next generation.
Old age is the quiet beauty of wisdom, like weathered wood, full of stories. Young flowers need perfect conditions to shine, but old wood is beautiful just as it is, cracks and all. It has a truth and presence that cannot be challenged.
Youth feels like the sunrise, full of energy and light. Old age is the sunset softer, deeper but both are radiant in their own splendid beauty and can take your breath away. So beauty lives with us throughout our lives like a dear friend who holds our hand and never lets go. Let’s treat it like a friend and we will shine in every moment of our lives.
________
The Forgotten Step
The other day, I modelled for a Taiwanese designer, just for fun. She wanted to fill the space with friends to celebrate her twenty-five years in the industry, and it felt special because my older daughter was invited too.
Backstage, we, the amateurs, asked the professionals how to walk “correctly”. That question lingered with me.
It took me back to my days as a dancer, where I learned the most difficult movement isn’t some intricate step, it’s the simple act of walking. Walking is our most natural state, yet under the gaze of others, it can turn into a performance. We grow stiff, self-aware. At home, we glide. So why do we lose ourselves so easily when we walk, dance or sing in front of others?
Maybe, in the public eye, we feel this unspoken obligation to live for others, not ourselves. We step away from our authentic, beautiful, free nature. Of course, we care about how we’re seen, it’s only human. But imagine if that private self, the one that moves so freely at home, could shine out in the world. We’d step into the best version of ourselves, bathed in a sense of real freedom. The challenge, then, isn’t learning a new walk – it’s carrying that private ease with us into public space.
We’re strangely haunted by the gaze of others, letting it disrupt our inner order. We chase an illusion of “ease”, but true ease can’t be performed. It has to be felt, with the innocence of a child.
It reminds me of a story from Zhuangzi. He once talked about a man who heard that people in a certain country walked very elegantly. He spent a lot of money to go to that country specifically to learn how to walk. But when he returned, Zhuangzi laughed and said “You’ve forgotten your original way of walking and learned something that is neither here nor there – you’ve forgotten your own steps!”
Why imitate others and end up with something awkward! In trying to adopt a “beautiful” walk, he lost his own natural grace and ended up unable to walk at all.
Coming back to the fashion show, and reflecting on all my years as a facialist, what have I learned? Beauty isn’t found in imitation, but in return, it’s the courage to return to yourself.
So, to walk with freedom is to honour what makes us human. It’s a quiet rebellion against the pressure to perform. It’s moving through the world not as an object for others, but as a subject, fully in possession of our own unique, natural, and therefore truly beautiful selves.