Returning to the natural skin

I have lived with dry skin for as long as I can remember. Over the years it seemed to age quicker than most, no matter how many hydrating creams I used or how often I changed my shower routine. More water, less water, long showers, short ones. Nothing made a real difference.

At one point I convinced myself that water might be de-hydrating my skin. I gave weekly showers a try and hoped that less exposure would help. It did not change much.
My next idea came from a different angle. If our bodies are made of so much water, perhaps the skin needs a different kind of nourishment. I had started walking barefoot through dew-covered grass, and the skin on my feet responded beautifully. So I began using the morning dew on my arms and legs as well. It helped for a moment, yet the effect faded again.

Life became demanding and for a while I drifted away from caring for my body at all. After a few months my skin felt tired and I felt tired with it. Something in me knew it was time to return to myself. I set out to find a truly natural cream. Nothing synthetic, nothing that would confuse my body. I discovered a balm made from lanolin, the fat found in sheep’s wool, and decided to give it a go. My skin began to change almost immediately.

Wool fat has a natural water-resistant quality. This made me wonder about the ageing of our skin. Not from a cosmetic point of view, rather from a deeper curiosity about how our bodies relate to the world around us. Our skin meets cold air, free radicals, dust, pollution and everything that drifts by. It is our first boundary. It is the quiet guardian of everything that lives within us.

What if that boundary has become too permeable. What if the natural layer that once protected us has thinned. A layer that is designed to function like a raincoat. When substances enter the body that do not belong there, the body must respond to something it was never designed to process. Over time this creates strain, and the skin carries the first signs of that burden.

It made me wonder if many of us carry a skin that has lost some of its original strength. Modern life brings chemicals, stress, pollutants and constant exposure. Little by little the natural barrier can weaken, and the body must work harder to respond. When a cream supports the outer layer again, the body receives the message that it is held. It feels safe to repair itself. It can breathe in a deeper way.

This thought invites a mindful way of looking at our skin. Not as something that needs to look perfect, rather as a living boundary that reflects how we meet the world. When we nurture this boundary, we nurture our relationship with life itself. Substances like wool fat can help restore the physical properties the skin once carried with ease. Our awareness completes the cycle. It brings presence, gentleness and respect for the quiet work the skin does every moment. When I felt the way lanolin sealed and softened my skin, something clicked. It reminded me of a quality that once seemed natural to us. A quiet resilience. A way of staying open to life while remaining protected.