I washed my hair in the kitchen sink as soon as I got home from work. I had no where to be so it wasn’t for appearances sake; I simply couldn’t stand the look of myself. Taking a shower was too much work, what with taking my clothes off and all. I simply wanted to feel refreshed and cleansed without the effort.
Afterwards, I immediately felt more beautiful. There’s been no one home to affirm this, but that is not the point. I just needed to be more comfortable for myself.
I think the weight of my bad hair day was a metaphor for my state of being this week. The roller coaster of inner emotions, simmering thoughts and reminders of past hurts and anger showed up in my tresses!
I have been told that this is all part of the grieving process and of letting go- especially the part about being angry. So what to do, what to do. Not much action is necessary, I think. I’ll sit with it for a while, but not wallow in it. I’ll stay quiet. Offer it up to the universe. And breath in. Breathe out.