Distilling My Cacophony (January 22, 2015)

Like so much noise in my life, I cut that shit off.

It starts with a haircut.

This is what I told myself on Tuesday when my friend, Michele, manager of coif development, asked for my thoughts on the direction of my curly mop. Lacking premeditation and hesitation, I replied with, “I want the first thing for people to notice is that I’m different. Chop it off, please.”

Now I can say the attainment of my new nirvana started with a haircut. The whole is the sum of its parts. My exterior mirrors my interior.

With all this recent self-realization, self-awareness, self-direction, me, me, me, I, I, I, I’ve been lost in translation. I’ve been consumed. I’ve been all mind, spirit, and soul; body not so much.

Once upon a time, this wasn’t the case. Arrogantly, yet with the backing of some fine individuals, I considered myself the whole package. Waxed everywhere I should be, donning Jimmy Choo, and smelling of Chanel, I owned my substance. I owned my streets. I owned my days and nights.

I thought I owned my mind, spirit, soul, and body, too. But this princess could feel that irritating pea underneath her mattress, and the mattresses of others, and slowly, it drove me insane. And as I dug to eradicate the pest of fear and discontent, I shed the bulk of who I knew myself to be.

It’s funny. I’ve worked in industries my entire career where appearance is extremely important – too much, in my opinion – and yet, it’s the first thing for me to care little about during times of stress. As the discomfort of the past 12 years compounded, I became frighteningly lazy and uncreative. I no longer possessed the bandwidth to fake it until I made it back to 100%. I allowed myself to believe that my financial bankruptcy and failing relationships left me with absolutely nothing anywhere. I was no longer a contender in my life; in fact, I’d lost the game entirely.

But before the haircut, before the self-analysis, at the bottom of the well of fear and discontent, there was a visceral flip of the “enough” switch. This is the switch that changed the game throughout my life of dealing with childhood bullies, spiteful family, entitled clients, overbearing lovers. This is the switch that has never failed me even when I thought I’d failed myself. I now call this switch “faith”.

It’s what allows for a renewal of energy, the discovery of a healthy appetite. Faith quiets the noise. Faith restores self to its rightful owner.

Faith is what recalibrates nirvana so that happiness starts with a new, sexy haircut.

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