thoughts on hair

Yesterday in the ed office I announce, "The stars are aligning. I may be nearing a hair cut."



I've had two in the past 9.5 years. That photo was taken this past Sunday.

It has not always been long and it matches my time teaching horticulture.

before we moved to Lansdale I walked to a barber and paid minimum wage rates and the jobs were done better than what I ended up paying here in Lansdale.

My students assume I do drugs. I tell them, "not since my hair was short." They shake their heads.

I say to Mosaic Woman, "I am not going to get a hair cut this summer." Years later I donate 10 inches to Locks of Love. If you don't have hair, I am sure they are willing to take cash. They do good work.

Years later another ten inches are donated. I say, "I doubt if I will grow it out again." I was wrong. It is longer than ever before.

This summer those good folk in the ed office and my ex-supervisor ponder out loud... "Why have such long hair if it is always braided?" Hmmm. "I say you will see it soon, when my wife is out of town." I don't like the knots that form.

A friend from church recently asked if she would ever see it unbraided. I say, "Maybe." Later I realize that when I get back from the Walking With God retreat, my hair will be loose and I can get to the meeting at church. She sees my hair.

How much water is wasted in taking longer showers?

A good friend in the ed office says, "Consider cutting it short." I say, "Hmmm." Maybe if we have a drought.

At Walking with God a woman approaches me and asks about how long my hair has been free to grow. She cuts hair. The next day I ask her where she works. Kutztown is a distance from Lansdale. I say, "well, if I only get it cut once every so many years...." In silence at the Jesuit Center that conversation would not have happened, except the first dinner and the last breakfast when we eat in noisiness. I envision a spiritual haircut. The stars begin to align.

In the ed office they say, "the stars?" I say, "Well I was headed out to the gym last night so when I locked myself out, I had nothing better to do than stare at the full moon and such till my wife got home." They continue to shake their heads at my goofiness.

I have said on many occasions, "If I cut it short, I will not grow it out again." A staff ID showing the stage when it was not quite long enough to pull back reminds me why. But I have incorrectly predicted the future before.

I like my hair.

Mosaic Woman braids my hair every morning and then lets it flop with gravity. I claim serious spinal cord damage. She also reacts to my goofiness. Then she dries her hands on my clothing. My life is hard.

I can't remember when exactly those two hair cuts took place. My memory is not as amazing as my hair.

I used to be self conscious about my long hair. Now it is a part of me. I have thus considered getting it cut short. It won't happen. For now.

Eternal life in the secret garden

Folk at work look at my long hair and assume things, so I often find myself joking with them about a hidden greenhouse back in the woods. Good luck trying to find what doesn't exist.

Some folk would say the same for eternal life, and even those who believe it is possible may have only rare moments of really believing all the way down through their gut to their toes.

Over the years I have heard many a book review on NPR, and now I can say that I have read one of those books. It was several weeks ago when I heard a review of The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett. One day while my science students were in the school library, I thought of it.

It proved to be an enjoyable read. This quote which starts the 21st chapter caught my attention and I have wanted to blog about it ever since. Hope you enjoy it. Hope it makes you think of times when you were so in awe, you could...


" One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands alone and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in some one's eyes....... "


READ OR LISTEN TO THE REVIEW by Sloane Crosley