Wild and Precious

I blinked and the week is gone.  It didn't really pass that smoothly, but looking back, it's all a blur!  I swear I had to have slept through a couple of those days (or at least sleptwalked through them).  Is that a word - sleptwalked - ??  I'm not sure, but it works here and I'm not taking the time to google the proper way to spell the past tense of sleepwalk.

As far as the hair thing goes, I still have a head full of it (multicolored, but full).  ;)

I think you can see a bit more of the natural color showing up.  ;)  YAY!!!

Since I didn't end up frying it with the Color Oops I was not brave enough to just chop it off.  And once it was curly again (and lighter on top) I decided I liked my curls too much to get rid of them.   Plus, I'm sort of enjoying the idea of being able to see just how much new growth I get.  I'm excited by the ability to compare my old colored hair with the new clean stuff.  So for now, long locks it is.  ;)  We'll see if I get irritated and eventually mutilate this mangy mess.  But for now, all is well.

I feel honest and present with my natural hair color growing out, and I'm thoroughly enjoying this feeling.  I was not sure what I had expected to feel.  I don't know that I'd given it much thought, since the idea to grow out my gray hair sort of sneaked up on me all of a sudden.  I had given lots of thought as to why I was coloring it, lots of thought as to why our culture pressures women to remain looking young, lots of thought about the ethics of spending so much money on outward appearances, lots of thought on lots of hair color related topics, but not much thought on how I'd feel once I had taken the leap.

Post leap, I'm really loving it right now.  I'm also fully aware that this could change, so I'm going to enjoy every happy moment.  ;)  I feel so much more authentic.  We all wear masks and construct walls. Right now it's like I just busted down a huge wall, mask discarded in the dust, face fully revealed.  It's good.  It's really good! I feel empowered and happy.

However, If I'm being totally honest, I do have to admit that I have paid more attention to what I wore this week.  When going out in public, I made sure to dress relatively nice.  The thoughts going through my mind were something like this, "Well at least if they see my grays growing out and I'm dressed cute, they won't judge me so harshly for letting myself go."

As much as I want to tear myself free from cultural pressure and norms, I find I'm still haunted by worries about what complete strangers might think about me.  I'm working on that, but not there just yet. It's a journey, ya know.  ;)

I went back to WellSprings congregation today and took my entire family with me this time.  Again, it was wonderful!  Definitely found my people.

It was their Thanksgiving service and the pastor read the poem below.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver, The House Light Beacon Press Boston, 1990.

After he read the entire poem, he repeated the last two lines.  

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Then four members of the congregation each spoke giving an answer to that question.  The first speaker was a six year old boy, followed by a "20's something" speaker, a "40's something" speaker and then a "60's something" speaker.  The span across the ages was fantastic, but so much more amazing than that was the complete and total vulnerability that each speaker exhibited in sharing his/her story.

I was moved to tears multiple times during the service, both by the details being shared and the comfort and safety provided by such a warm-hearted community.  Love was apparent and that is a beautiful thing!

So I'm going to drift off to sleep tonight meditating on that question.  What it is I plan to do with my one wild and precious life?  

The final speaker today ended her stories with a quote that resonated with me.

“I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough..” 
― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

I have not read The Notebook or seen the movie, but I'm thinking I might.