I CUT MY HAIR! 

Photo by CJ Hast

I cut my hair!

I am just so happy!

I love it!

And by this time, dear reader, you know that I’m going to mine the full meaning of everything, even a change in hairstyle. So, of course I had to write about it and share it with you. It’s been a community effort, that’s for sure. It’s not because I necessarily need the opinions of others to make up my mind, but it’s just so much FUN to involve my friends in the big movements and changes.

I think that hair may be the single most important feature of outward identity. And this is an outward manifestation of an inner shift that has been percolating for a while now. In reinventing Karla, I’m moving closer and closer to the essence of who I am and who I am becoming in this third chapter.

After seventeen years of cutting my hair, Rosie really knows me and knows my hair. Loyalty is big with me. She encouraged me to go for it, to go for the change, even if it meant going to another colorist. I was positively flooded with relief. I had a choice! The pressure was off. And after talking it over, I could feel my enthusiasm rise as we talked excitedly about the changes in cut and color. She was so confident, she so obviously knows what she is doing; a real pro. And she made it all sound like so much fun, which is always a hook for me. “Let’s do it!”, said I.

http://www.panacheoncollege.org/ (Rose Bouvier) 

Even after that first pile of hair dropped, I felt so clear that this was what I wanted. But my God, there must have been a half of foot of hair and several years of growth that came off in one quick snip. As the cut progressed, I felt so safe and secure in her expert hands. I’ll never forget my sheer delight when she handed me the mirror at the end. I felt like I was in a movie! We took several pictures as I danced around the salon, exclaiming how much I loved it.  We hugged and then we hugged again and I went out into the world with a brand new look and an overwhelming sense of freedom. 

Photo by Rose Bouvier at Panache Salon

Karen was thrilled.  She’s been encouraging me to cut my hair and tone down the blonde for years. We sent a flurry of texts, forwarding the tiny little picture on the cell phone to her daughter, Allison who loved it, too and her husband, William, declaring me a “mature, lovely woman”. And listen to this! Karen had just bought a magazine with a cover of Susan Sarandon and she was just getting in the car to tell me NOT to do anything until she had sent me the picture of the cut and then there was my picture text with my new cut and it looked exactly the same as the picture! It was the exact same cut! How spiritual! 

Lucy was so much fun. A fellow Sagittarius, she knows how to mine the spiritual story out of everything. I was on my way to Point Reyes, and I spontaneously decided to call her from the car and ask her if I could come over and show her my new hair! She met me at the door all excited to see the new me.  

Girls can spend hours, and I mean hours talking about hair. It demands a lot of resources for it to look good, (or even passable), and a good deal of time and money. And the economist in me wants to efficiently allocate those resources. So we settled on the couch to have a long talk about, well, hair, and she looked me deeply in the eye and said, "It's just so ... you."  We realized that the best beauty consultants, stylists, etc. recognize the true essence of a person and bring that out and enhance it. How do you really look? How did you look when you were little? For example, this darker hair matches my eyebrows. This is so much closer to how God created me. What colors did She choose?  

Again, Rosie knows me.  She recognizes me and enhances my essence. 

Work was so much fun, too. I twittered all morning about my hair with anyone and everyone who would twitter with me! I heard that I look ten years younger, that it is softer, that it brings out the real me; Va’Nechia shook her head marveling at how much difference hair can make.  I even got enthusiastic, supportive energy from the guys. (However, John appeared totally mystified when I told him I was going to spend Saturday morning playing with my hair. “Playing with your hair?”, he inquired a little confused, “How does one play with hair?)  

CJ, while not a twitterer, but a great photographer, (and friend), put together a before and after four-part series of Karla and her hair, featured here in this posting. The pictures have been E-mailed far and wide to the vast reaches of the country. Pretty much everyone in my life, past and present has now witnessed my new hair!

"Before" by CJ Hast

"After" by CJ Hast

 (I’m not sure if I’ll ever really master that gigantic round brush with the scary wire bristles, but Rosie assures me I will become adept in no time and she’s ordering me one.)  

I held on to the long hair for a long time; the long blonde hair. I was a rock and roll girl. I was afraid that cutting my hair would mean I had sold out; that I would be so straight. (remember that description of people?) It wasn’t so much about getting older, but God forbid, going straight, soccer mom-ish that I was so worried about. I am so grateful for the courage (and it takes a lot of it, let me tell you!) and willingness to make such a big change in appearance. 

I came to realize that there is an elegant essence to women in their 50s and 60s. Our icons, Susan Sarandon, Rene Russo and Diane Keaton, inspire us. As much as I love her, Goldie Hawn just isn’t looking so good to me anymore. Even my icon, Stevie Nicks, hmmm. . not quite the look I’m going for these days. Stevie Nicks in her 20s  - yes. Stevie nicks in her 60s - no. Maybe I should encourage her to cut her hair, too! 

Everyone, and I mean everyone in my life loves it. Rob just keeps looking at me and nodding, "This is a really good look for you!" Can't you just hear him? 

Let us grow older elegantly, dear readers. Let us walk hand in hand, side by side, occupying our authentic points in space as we grow and change and reclaim and reinvent God’s perfect creation.  

I choose to see my life as a gift I’m still creating. 

How Do You Keep Your Wild Streak?

A trusted counselor recently suggested that I explore my adventurous side. Me? Really? I’ve always thought of myself as very adventurous. But you know, the truth is, over the years I have held my desires and impulses in check, which is probably not a bad idea, given some of the “decisions”, (can we even call them that?) I made in my 20s. You get older, you start caring a lot more about security. You hold it down; keep yourself reigned in, stay firmly on the ground. Then, pretty soon, you wonder where your spontaneity went.

I’m fifty six years old. Over the past two years I’ve had a horrendous bout with vertigo, a frozen shoulder, a joint that needs replacing in my big toe and more than a few knee problems. Let’s just say my body is not what it once was. I’ve worked the same job for ten plus years, lived in the same place for almost fifteen years, (can it be?) and been happily married to the same man for over seventeen. I don’t want to change any of these things. I love the structure of my life. It holds me, keeps me rooted in myself and in God.

But I have a wild streak. Always have. It’s a definite hallmark of the Crouse family from whence I sprung. I’ve been wondering lately about how I pay attention to that part of me. How do I give her air time? How do I let little pockets of it out in a safe and healthy way?  Here are some of my ideas:

·         Go see live music, preferably loud, raucous rock and roll.

·         Wear what you want.

·         Stop to watch the hawks fly.

·         Pray a lot with yourself and others. I recently heard about praying on the floor, prostrate, that intrigues me . . . I’m pretty sure that the wildest part of me is connected to God.

·         Put the top down on a cold day and turn up the heat.

·         Go skiing.

·         Live in Oaktown or Baltimore or Brooklyn. (I don’t understand my fascination with this last city, never even been there, perhaps it’s the Avett Brothers?)

·         Read books about mountain climbers.

·         Read Wild by Cheryl Strayed.

·         Stay on top of the Mavericks situation. (big wave surfing)

·         Go to the movies at midnight.

·         Go to Point Reyes (or elsewhere) and walk under the open sky. Do this a lot.

·         Go out and get really cold – or really hot.

·         The exhilarating feeling of letting go.

·         Change your hair. (maybe)

·         Wear a leather jacket with a dressy skirt.

·         Read the Rolling Stone.

·         Keep learning.

·         Tell the truth with no intent to harm.

·         Get up with the dawn and go somewhere new.

·         Eat and drink a lot of chocolate.

·         Power walk with your IPOD - recent play list: (unabashedly 70’s) 

o   Sweet Home Chicago – Eric Clapton and BB King

o   Second Hand News – Fleetwood Mac

o   Rough Justice – Rolling Stones

o   Farther Along – Flying Burrito Brothers

o   Heads in Georgia - JJ Cale and Eric Clapton

o   Throwing Stones – Grateful Dead

o   Mama Kin – Aerosmith

o   Write Me a Few of Your Lines – Bonnie Raitt

o   Bring it on Home – Led Zeppelin

o   On Your Way Down – Little Feat

o   Throwing Stones – Grateful Dead (had to hear it again)

·         Go to cafes, sip hot chocolate and write.

·         Go to Paris as often as the pocketbook allows.

Dear reader, how do you keep it wild?