I have been thinking a lot about identity within the context of my teeth. Who is this person who now looks back at me in the mirror? Trying to keep my upper lip over my teeth to close my mouth makes me look severe, like a pissed off school teacher or a mother who simply-won't-take-that-behavior-for-one-more-minute. I don't like it. This is not who I am.
I can see with my own two eyes that my teeth are indeed moving and changing--my chin and cheekbones are straighter--even my profile looks more aligned. I find that I even want to square my shoulders and my hips as I stand and balance myself on swift moving subway cars. I've upped the intensity of my yoga classes, as though the rest of me must keep up with the strong commitment that my teeth have undertaken.
They say that each tooth is energetically connected to the meridians and organs in the body. (Just ask any acupuncturist.) Here, have a look:
Funny, if I look at my missing teeth--the molars--and the ones that have moved the most so far--my two upper front teeth--it's remarkably accurate. So we can blame all of my *ahem* more human moods and emotions on the movement of my teeth, right?
I suppose that all this should be a comforting fact, that even after a mere three months the braces have had a tremendous effect, not only on my teeth, but on my whole being. But instead it just makes me realize how much more there is to go, and that gets a little disheartening.
I can think about it this way: It appears that my molars and bicuspids are into bondage lately. I realize it's only a two year phase they're going through and I hope they're getting a cheap thrill by it, because I haven't had one...yet.
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