As a young child, I had very long hair. I wore it either in braids, or in a ponytail; it did look quite a bit like the tail of a Shetland pony. Long, blond, and constantly in motion. I wasn’t a child of stillness.
As I grew, I still wore my hair long — putting it through almost every fashionable torture known for 4 decades. I actually IRONED it once, w/ the assistance of my amazingly patient mother. Like it wasn’t straight ENOUGH?? I permed it, highlighted it, bleached it, glazed it, curled it and blew it dry and brushed it and whatever else came to mind.
But I didn’t cut it. It remained fairly long until only a few years ago. Or at least, it was never SHORT. Enter my favourite turtleneck, last week.
I wore the turtleneck in to my hair cut. Who knew you shouldn’t do this? Even Adrian — my sylist — didn’t realise, until it was… well, let’s just say it was late in the cut. 🙂 And apparently when you cut hair over a turtleneck — even if it’s folded down — it doesn’t lay…straight.
This is all by way of saying that my right side was shorter than my left side, which had to be cut to match. And then the right side shortened to match it. And yep — this really happened. My hair came out a LOT shorter than I’m use to wearing it.
Which turns out to be…GREAT! Who knew?? I love my new short hair!
And there are sooo many morals to this story. Silver linings, you get what you need, letting go, etc. Not least of which is: DO NOT wear a turtleneck to get a haircut. 🙂
True confessions: I read my horoscope. Almost every day. And weekly, too. I check out what’s in the paper, and then on Wednesdays I read Free Will Astrology to see what it says.
This week, it says I might want to reconsider being the antagonist, or adversary, in a relationship. Now, someone might want to chime in here, but I don’t think I’m anyone’s adversary. Unless you count (im)perfect strangers, re: creepy anti-human-rights politicos.
But then I think: if there are people I knowingly antagonise (and again, I can’t think of one), it’s at least half me. I know that — no one dislikes in a vacuum. Buddhism teaches that we’re all connected. Like a web, nodes along the lines that tether one life to another.
I don’t need a horoscope to know that I’m connected to everyone I meet, each person in my life. But as an adversary? I’m watching closely this next week, looking out for where I’m obstructionist. And here’s what I found:
Please note: the garage has been a mess for MONTHS, because a) he’s been sick w/ flu; b) we’re trying to clear out a storage unit; c) there was holiday stuff everywhere; and d) who, on a nice day, wants to clean the garage? And you really don’t want to do it when it’s 15˚ outside…
But that doesn’t mean we need it inside, at least until I decide where I want it, just because you’re cleaning out the garage. It’s MY ball chair. And I have a zillion things to do today that do NOT involve figuring out where to put the ball chair.
Okay. So maybe I’m antagonistic about the ball chair. 🙂
And that’s my point (and probably the point of the horoscope…?): it’s a freakin’ ball chair, for cryin’ out loud! We are LOUDLY debating the eventual resting place of a BALL CHAIR.
That’s beginner’s heart, folks: two steps forward, one step back, two steps sideways. I’m thinking it’s the Zen box waltz. Or maybe it’s the beginner’s heart ball chair…?
You may already have seen the PBS video on Shirley & Jenny, two elephants who never forgot each other. It’s not recent — at least 10 years old. But it was new to me.
Elephants have totemic significance in my family. They were beloved of my mother, and we all indulged her. As a result, there were elephants on every surface you can imagine as I grew up. In now-forbidden ivory, in jade, in porcelain and stone and wood and painted ceramic, embroidered on cloths & pillows… And once, in the parking lot outside the apartment house where we lived, my father a very young calf trucked in to surprise my mother on her birthday.
but Jenny & Shirley are not my mother’s elephants, engraved/painted/carved/ & cast. Jenny & Shirley were captured in Sumatra — an island in western Indonesia. They met when Jenny was a calf, according to the Elephant Sanctuary, where both elephants eventually were placed. Shirley mothered Jenny, and neither apparently ever forgot their connection. Their reunion many years later is the stuff of happy endings.
I’ve moved most of my life, although not recently. Over the holidays, I happened to mention to my elder son that I used to throw up when I had to pack. I’m pretty sure he thought that was my (usual!) poetic license. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. I STILL hate packing. Not traveling; I’m a tourist at heart. But I want firm roots, deeply planted. I envy the childhood friends of my three sisters, each of whom was able to maintain contact w/elementary school friends. My elementary years were spent in a place long ago & far away. Even the name has been changed, to protect the guilty.
So there are almost no friends left from my childhood, or even my young adulthood (also spent on the move). To be fair, though, I’ve always had my wonderful three sisters, my go-to friends when we moved (10+ times before I was 12, another 6 or so in my teens). I don’t even remember how many times I’ve moved; my father was military, then civil service. And truth be told, we were luckier than most such families: we had back-to-back tours of duty at least once. I had friends who moved annually.
So perhaps the reunion of these two old friends simply hit a resonant note on my emotional keyboard, brought on by memories of my mother and my envy of elephant love. I don’t think it’s only that, though: I know that elephants are ‘people.’ Most animals are: they love, dislike (I’ve never known an animal to hate, only fear), have preferences & quirks & generally think & feel. Like we do. Like I do.
That’s why I think I love Shirley & Jenny. They were ecstatic to see each other, and never left each other’s side, once reunited. I do envy that, from the other side of my unrooted childhood. But I also know what they went through to get to that safe place.
Watch the video, and take a moment to be grateful: your precious human life means you can call any living friend or relative, from whenever, on the phone. FaceBook them. Find them on Twitter. And reunite. And who knows? It may be just as poignant as Shirley finding Jenny.
A friend sent me a blog post from a blogger I don’t follow. And what Mr. Lake had to say (he’s the blogger) had to say resonated deeply.
I’m the kind of person who donated money for free speech during the trials of Nazis in Skokie, Illinois. Knowing what I do now about hate speech, I probably wouldn’t. 🙂 But at the time, it seemed to me (I was a working journalist) that if I couldn’t fight for those I condemn to speak freely, my beliefs weren’t worth much.
I feel the same way about freedom of religion. As Lake notes, “No religion is safe when any religion can dictate public policy, law and education.” I’d put ANY in bold caps, myself.
There is a feeling among some Christians — and I know family members and close friends who feel this way — that Christianity is under attack. I find that assertion so untrue as to be almost laughable. Except that I don’t laugh (well, not very often…) at other people’s beliefs. But you’d have to be non-Christian to see the irony here.
We are discussing the rights of Christian businesses to bail on insurance, if it covers birth control. Even if they’re not Catholic (the only religion, to my knowledge, w/ a strong historical platform against birth control). We allow Christian families to refuse shots for the children. We take off from work for holidays that are Christian: we don’t get off for Jewish Hanukkah or Muslim Eid al-Adha or Hindu Diwali.
But Muslim women have had to fight to wear their religiously mandated head-covering, the hijab. Just last year, a woman in Oklahoma lost her lawsuit to wear her hijab to work. And try telling someone you can’t work during Ramadan (which is accommodated in most Muslim countries).
In other words? This is a predominantly — & preeminently — Christian country, despite popular evangelical claims otherwise. I’m not fighting the right of Christians to practice their faith. I am championing the rights of other (non)believers to follow their own paths. Which may be quite different.
So here’s to Jay Lake, who said it both more succinctly and more overtly than I can. “[Y]ou have absolutely no right to impose your beliefs on others through the public instrumentalities of government, law and public education. Any more than any one else has the right to impose their beliefs on you.” And THAT is the 1st Amendment, folks.