Time4Grace

A Reflection

2012-02-02T18:50:00.000-08:00

Early this week a friend asked me to pray for someone who had attempted suicide. Yesterday I heard of a murder-suicide that occurred last week. With the news of Don Cornelius' death (suicide possible), I am wondering about the trauma these people experienced/are experiencing. What is happening in their last moments that life seems so hopeless? What goes on in those last seconds between them and the Spirit? Not looking for any answers; I am just recognizing their pain.

I am thankful for those of you - friends and strangers - who have encouraged/supported/loved me in my moments of pain and sadness. Sometimes I have to encourage myself. I am thankful I can and have.

Giving up is accompanied by a burden most of us may be unfamiliar with. So, imagine a life that has no one to help them carry a burden or thinks they have no one. Imagine one so burdened and hurt that going on is impossible. Imagine someone feeling as if all viable options are off the table. Imagine hopelessness.

Remember to love. Remember to encourage. Remember that harsh words can't be recalled. Remember we don't know others burdens. We know our own and they can be bad enough. Hold on to your judgment. If you can't help someone in need (or who you think is in need), pray for them. Pray for yourself. We are all connected.

Its been a long week for some of us. We have heard of deaths and hardships. Take a moment to recognize your blessings. If a friend/acquaintance comes to mind, hold them dearly in your thoughts and prayers. Or contact them. If you are going through, there is always someone who will take a moment to hear you. Just ask.

A smile costs nothing. A kind word may cost a moment. Its worth it.

Much love ya'll. Peace.

With grace.

Orange you glad you saw this?

2012-01-25T00:52:00.000-08:00

I happened upon this photo one morning and was completely set off my planned course.

Orange is a favorite color. And the color of some of the sand dunes in Namibia's coastal parks. As the dunes age they transform from sandy tan to brilliant orange.

I was invited to Namibia years ago by a friend, but was unable to go. Now, as I consider this amazing orange, I wonder. What if I had seen this? I think my friend would have had to drag me away. Well, I say that now.
I think my response to this site will be much deeper and more appreciative then years ago if I had traveled with him. Yes, I am using future tense. I am declaring that I will visit this magnificent place one day.

Wishing you a beautiful, bright orange day.

With grace.

Photograph by Frans Lanting
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/06/namibia-park/fuller-text

today's gift: a slower pace, love and reflection

2012-01-21T23:56:00.000-08:00

it snowed today. the crunch of the freshly fallen snow coated with a clear glaze made slowing down a must. snow generally does that anyway, but i guess many of us needed another reminder.

slow down. be. listen. listen not just to the crunching snow, but to each other. to neighbors out clearing the glaze from their cars, walks and steps. to loved ones. to yourself. and to the Spirit.

slowing down to notice the small things. the nuances. the what we take for granted. i saw little animal tracks in the snow. i couldn't figure out what type of animal made them, but i was thankful they were there. a little wonder for the day.

i also received this gift today and with it a few moments of reflection about my parent's love. their love exposed me to a rich ethnic and cultural diversity. they would have celebrated their 57th wedding anniversary tomorrow. my dad passed away three years ago and i am so grateful for the love he and my mom shed upon me, my sibs, and so many others.

love. be. we only have now.

with grace.

ps. i will start posting pics as soon as i can. trying to figure out this new Mac system.

From My Neighbors and Mom: Today's Gift

2011-06-16T19:10:00.000-07:00

   Sometimes folk can't find the way, so you clear the weeds and point them to the clearing. You hope they take advantage of the path before them, but most times you have little control over that. Either they take the path or they don't.

   Then there are the times when the path is there, but its cluttered with fear and doubt or "the weeds". You're told to take advantage of it, but each time the invitation is offered, you find the invite comes with more fear and doubt.

Weeds. Don't wait for someone to clear them away for you. Clear the path yourself and walk it. If you find more clutter along the way, move it, step over it, through it...whatever you have to do. Keep walking. When you reach a fork, decide and move on. You may not be sure which direction to take, but you can be sure standing there won't get you anywhere. And turning around and going back is out of the question. If the path winds, the greater the adventure. Up hill. Down hill. No hill. North, south, east and west. Go for it.

Its your path. Take it. Along the way is your life. Live it.

Be. Do. Have.

With grace,
Lynda

Beautiful Women of Art

2011-03-28T15:12:00.000-07:00

http://www.theroot.com/multimedia/influential-black-women-arts-culture
Simply inspirational!
Beautiful women!
Amazing talent!
I can't wait to visit their museums, installations, visions.
Thank you. Forever!

for adult eyes....seriously

2011-03-17T13:42:00.000-07:00

This is a beautiful video, but if you are sensitive to nudity or are around little ones, you may not want to see this now. If you do, enjoy!
Until the end of time,
Lynda

NHPR.org - Michele Norris On Race, And 'The Grace Of Silence'

2010-09-21T09:06:00.000-07:00

NHPR.org - Michele Norris On Race, And 'The Grace Of Silence'

‎"They moved forward not with anger, but with hope. They woke up every day trying to show America what they could be. And in doing that [they were trying] to show America what it could be." - Michele Norris

Michele's father and so many of our ancestors made a decision to move forward, to not live in anger when there was so much to be angry about. Not much has changed. Some things have, but civil and personal rights are violated daily almost everywhere. I think its best to stand for what is right while resisting consuming anger. The kind of anger that takes over our lives and leaves us with little else but bitterness and hatred. Instead we canwork towards mutual understanding when possible, though understanding is not always available to us. Its not easy, but its the only way forward.

Choose carefully. Consider grace.

We are all still learning.
Lynda

Power Tripping

2010-08-19T13:58:00.000-07:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38730223/ns/msnbc_tv-countdown_with_keith_olbermann/

"They came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for me and by that time no one was left to speak up." - Pastor Martin Niemoller

Could "me" be you?

Can I Ask You a Question? or Everybody Doesn't Know Sign Language

2010-08-02T18:07:00.000-07:00

Something happened the other day to a friend and it struck me hard. In love for years and he thought they were okay. The conversation stopped. He called me in tears. Days turned into weeks and weeks, months. They weren't talking.

Here's my question: Why aren't men and women talking to one another?

Perhaps we just don't care that much. Maybe our reason for not talking means more to us. Or are we just afraid of what might happen if we do talk with each other? Maybe, like him, we think we're okay. Maybe we don't know.

I don't mean that everyday maintenance, regular or polite talk. I mean the conversation we keep pushing aside. The talk that goes beyond the surface and into our marrow. Paying attention, loving, and listening. Stopping. To listen.

Certainly this does not apply to all men and women. As a matter of fact, I have great male friends who I can talk to/with and I appreciate their openness and support so much that, as I consider this subject, I am going to be sure I am in better touch with them. (If my guy friends are reading this, I will be in touch soon to say thank you personally.) However, I am regularly reminded of the damage wrought when people stop the deeper conversations.

I've been asking why. Now I am asking you.

Why?

Silence. A grumble. A rolling of the eyes. A lie. Longer hours at work. Texting, instead of talking. A raised fist or hand. Television and more television. Louder and in separate rooms. Online social networking. This instead of a moment of stopping and sitting down to talk and listen? Breathe.

For some, it may take a little time to figure out just what you want to say. That's okay. At the very least, say that and then work on finding how to say the rest. Get help if you need to. And if you are the audience - the person waiting to listen or hoping for the space to express yourself too - prepare. The conversation that you will have maybe the breath of fresh air you need. You know that long, deep sigh. Like a weight lifted off of your chest.

Approach it with an open heart and an open mine because this opening up - this conversation - will be about the rest of your lives. And we will all sigh with you because we have all longed for this conversation. Family, friends and others are all touched when we stop talking.

We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. - MLK Jr.

A void was created in the fabric of your community/our community when the talking ceased. That void took something from all of us. It broke us all just a bit more. You know. But, for now, enough about us.

Breathe. Talk.

For you. For yours.

With grace,
Lynda

Disclaimer: I apologize if I failed to talk to you when I could have. I am learning to pay more attention, ask the questions, and listen. If you find me on another course, please let me know. But also know this: I won't push you. If your wall is up and stays up after several attempts, I am backing away, but not turning my back.

Help me understand. What is your answer to the question?

Resource: The Conversation: How Black Men and Women Can Build Loving, Trusting Relationships by Hill Harper http://amzn.com/1592404758

The danger of a single story

2010-05-05T15:56:00.000-07:00

Chimamanda Adichie: The danger of a single story Video on TED.com

Lets open our eyes, find another pair of shoes to stand in, and consider other perspectives. See the broader picture. Don't settle on your personal experience because, truth be told, the world is bigger than us and our experiences.

I am so glad I stumbled upon this today. It is very encouraging during a time when it seems the world is so small and doesn't look like me.

Its been a busy few months. Work and school and sortin' through. I hope to be blogging and creating art more regularly very soon. Its a part of me and helps me be balanced.

In the meantime, hugs to all. Embrace the whole story. Be open and love.

With grace.

I AM

2010-03-12T09:48:00.001-08:00

Charter school in tough neighborhood gets all its seniors into college - chicagotribune.com

Goodness prevails in a difficult place.

Like a green shoot growing through a narrow crack in a cement walk.

Reaching.

Hope reigns.

I am.

Epilogue: You can't keep me down.

http://abcnews.go.com/WNT/video/seniors-chicago-school-college-10089926

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Inspirations/robin-roberts-inspired-young-men-urban-prep-academy/story?id=10667953

The Gift in a Snow Day

2010-02-10T16:40:00.000-08:00

Snowstorms present us with an amazing gift if we choose to accept it.

The northeast is currently being blanketed with several inches of snow. The gift is the time it provides to be with ourselves and our loved ones. Yes, in a busy world, snowstorms make us stop.

I was in Target last night, picking up my snow day essentials, including Sade’s new CD, Soldier of Love, and I heard a sales associate ask another about a new product. “There is a customer looking for Couples Retreat,” she said. “Yes, it came out this month. Do we have it?” I don’t know what it is or whether they had it, but I instantly reflected on how wonderful this time is to retreat with someone you love – yourself, your family, your mate, friends – and just be. Pamper, read, talk, play games, and just love each other up.

A retreat means many things to many people. Perhaps, you have your own retreat ritual.

Or maybe you have a snow day ritual. Whatever it is, take advantage of this time and be good to yourself and those you love because how often to we get time handed to us a silver platter, or in this case, in a blizzard. You’ve wished for time and now its yours.

Today, I shoveled my sidewalk, my neighbors sidewalk, had lunch with nearby friends and went for a walk. Each event brought new insights, encouragement and clarified direction. The storm also brought a moment to settle in, draft and post this entry. (I missed last month.) And the day is not over yet! Now, I’m off to do more de-cluttering (an ongoing project).

I would love to hear how you are spending or spent this day.

With grace.

Recounting My Blessings

2009-12-14T14:41:00.000-08:00

Today, I sent an email note to someone I met last Friday night to acknowledge the great conversation we had. My intent was a short email to correct something I said to her. As I wrote, I was reminded of some of the gifts I received since I moved to North Philly. The note is much longer. I am thankful.

Dear Charlene,

Very nice to meet you Friday evening.

The next day I reflected on our conversation about my community and remembered all of the folks on my block I have interacted with over the course of the years since I brought my home.

When I first arrived the guys on the block, who sell drugs, hung out in front of my home. It was their hangout before I moved there. After a little conversation, they slowly moved on. The transition was interesting. They began looking out for me first (making sure the trash they created was not left on my step, moving when I drove up and speaking to me respectfully.) We still exchange hellos. I want so much more for them.

Then my neighbor across the street - an older woman - had a small fire in her house earlier this year. She barely spoke to me until that point. As the fire fighters went through her home to identify the source of the smoke, she stood outside in the cool air wearing only a thin robe or coat. I gave her my long wool coat and some socks. About a week later she brought my coat back and began inviting me into her home.

My other neighbors and I talk about composting. I placed a composter in a large open space we are fortunate to have on our block. Its a green space and we plan to keep it green.

I have found so many miracles/blessings since I began living there, including the great lessons I stumbled on while picking up trash or walking in the neighborhood.

Last, but not least, is my neighbor Alison, who encouraged me to move to North Philadelphia. I grew up in West Mt. Airy and resided in Northwest Philadelphia up until May 2008. Alison is an artist and a wonderful neighbor (or "mover and shaker", as another artist friend, Katherine Pannepacker, refers to her).

Thank you for your inquiry. It made me count my neighbor blessings. But most of all, I hope this note encourages you in your work.

Stay in touch and thanks again,

Lynda

Bracelets - a little arm candy

2009-12-03T14:01:00.000-08:00

Been busy folks. In the studio.

Some of my latest creations include a little arm candy. Memory wire bracelets just right for any arm. They range in price up to $50 and they are one-of-a-kind.

I will be posting more work soon. In the meantime, if you are interested in bejeweling you or someone else with a little arm candy (they are easy to take on and off), let me know. Click the link below to see more.

A little side note: I love the combination of sizes, textures, and type on each of these little slinky-like bracelets. My work always reminds me of community. And so we are a variety. We can make it together, can't we? Life is full of variety - gifts from God. What are we making of it? Be you and if you don't know who that is, get still and find out.

I'm back. Much love and thanks for being there for me.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2069065&id=42605655&l=9397477b20

The Cool: Art this time

2009-12-03T13:59:00.000-08:00

http://www.uwishunu.com/2009/12/barkley-hendricks-and-the-cool-school/comment-page-1/#comment-6756

Maori Karmael Holmes produced this awesome short film about four amazing Philadelphia artists. Their voices and their work is important. And one more thing, they make me appreciate my city a bit more. If you haven't seen the exhibit at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, The Birth of Cool, ... get there! What is taking you so long? Free on Sundays!

Much love and more to come.

Sacred Wounds

2009-11-09T11:40:00.000-08:00

The storm has passed and I am sitting on the shore taking in fresh air. The hurt of a recent "world rocking" is there, but something sacred has come forth and I am thankful.

During the early fall, a friendship was severed and those of you who know me well (and, in some cases, know me better than I know myself), know that I don't get up immediately and shake the dust off after something like this occurs. You know that something like this reaches my core. Its a spiritual breach for me. So, my spirit mourns. But Spirit enables me to go on, move forward and embrace the sacred lessons learned.

I was asked about this sacred gift. I was asked to spell it out. To get to the heart of it. In a nutshell: Hurt serves no one well. It diminishes everyone. "Old news," you say. Perhaps, but I am talking about something deeper.

Hurt is too expensive. Its debilitating. Hurt changes the way we move about in the world impacting the little incidentals and the significant. It interferes with everything. The cost is too high and we can't afford it. One of my favorite quotes comes from Martin Luther King Jr. (Yeah, say what you will about him, but he gave us a lot.) "We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly."

I am taking responsibility for the ways in which I know I contributed to the breach and my intention is to live in a manner that supports this sacred gift. If you are ever on my Facebook wall you will see this: "Lovin' life. Yeah, it has its pitfalls but when those peaks come along...huge smile. As for the pitfalls, look for the gift. Its there." I posted this quote quite sometime ago on FB because I knew then the treasure we can find in the dark. I just hate being reacquainted with this particular teaching style.

Much love.

LAS GALLAS: Las Gallas in Juarez, Mexico

2009-10-19T08:01:00.000-07:00

Just 'cause I love 'em.
LAS GALLAS: Las Gallas in Juarez, Mexico

The Storm Before the Calm

2009-09-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

I am not sure I am ready to submit the post I originally intended. As a matter of fact, I know I am not. Its entitled Fresh Air, but it is still very much a draft. The air around me is different, but not fresh. I am working my way out of some heavy smog. I see the fresh air on the horizon, but I can’t smell it yet.

This air is tinged with bitterness, anger, sadness, and confusion. I am asking myself a lot of questions because I cannot believe what happened happened. You know. Stunned. Gospel music is being played (jazz and classical too), prayers are being said, and I am holding on and looking forward. Yes, there are frequent looks back. I probably shouldn't, I guess, but I want to understand and improve.

An eight-year friendship has come to an end. I sensed a significant shift in the surface awhile back and began making preparations, but never expected the earthquake that rocked us both. Well, I know it rocked me to my core. There were words. Texts, emails, and calls. There was hope for simple, friendly conversations and easy acknowledgements, but during a critical time in both our lives, tempers flared. I felt ignored at a time when I craved understanding and connection, and left alone when I needed a hand. I can usually stand on my own, but, you know, there are times when you just need someone else to be there too. A little company every now and then. (I was suprised by the deep need I had. A rather tense and unusual summer, which we never discussed, was followed by the one-year anniversary of my dad’s death and his upcoming birthday. There were other concerns too. All together, I needed a little help from a friend.)

While all the earth shattering was going on, I propped myself up against my hallway wall, cried, breathed deeply, prayed and, whenever the ground slowed its shifting, paced. I’m walking a little steadier now, even with the now and then aftershocks. The falling debris has slowed to an occasional spritz and my friends have gathered around.

Friendship. Yes, remember to be your own friend, as I mentioned in my previous post, Honor, but we also need the support of a circle of dependable friends. If we can’t have the circle, then at least one friend we can rely on. And when those moments arise when the friends just can’t be there and the earth is shaking, hold on, listen to the Spirit, and breathe deep. Fresh air is on the way.

Much love.

Epligoue:

Hurt serves no one well. It only diminishes everyone.
This Too Shall Pass by Helen Steiner Rice http://www.amandashome.com/thistoo.html Steiner Rice was one of my grandmother's favorite poets.

Below the Surface: Truth Told

2009-07-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

I have been busy learnin' and lovin', so its been a lil ' while since my last post. This one is full of hard truths and the applications may be much more personal and immediate than I think.

It seems like each week since I began writing this post in early June, the lesson of looking below the surface was repeated in a new manner. I guess I needed that reiteration. Hmmmm.

Lesson 1: One's truth will come forth in time and without much effort from you. Put on that humble hat and wait for it. Allow people to be. You think you know someone and they surprise you. Or you are curious about something regarding them. Just wait. The mouth speaks the heart's truth, but truth is a powerful commodity and we don't always want it. It frees us, but it can also be very intimidating. Liberation or fear. You choose?

Lesson 2: Things are not always as they appear. We each have our own frame of reference which influences our impressions. Its OUR frame of reference developed over years by family, friends, education and, generally, experience. So, though we see it, it sometimes just ain't what it is. Get out of the way of your own self and avoid that vicious jump to the wrong conclusions or the rush to judgment.

Lesson 3: Its not always about you. I had to make an unpopular decision recently. A decision that involved a friend. Without going into too much detail, my initial choice to avoid ill regard would have hurt a very innocent young person. After careful reflection, I decided that maybe I did not understand. So, I expressed my concerns and listened. The next day, through an unrelated request, I realized that I would have indeed and unnecessarily hurt someone very special. This is one instance when, as one friend's signature reads, "It is better to understand than to be understood."

Lesson 4: The most recent lesson. My grandmother visited me in a dream. She had a list of groceries, which she asked me to purchase from the local market. Once at the market, of the five or six items she requested, I could only remember one thing. Scrapple. That's right. Gross, glutenous pig scraps. It was one of my grandmother's favorites. The worse of the list stood out above all else. The lesson: What am I/ what are we missing because all we can focus on is the very worst?

Time will tell just how personal this is to my immediate present/future. I will keep you posted. (Pardon the pun.) Until then.

With grace,
Lynda

Amazing Grace

2009-06-02T13:48:00.001-07:00

“My grace is sufficient for thee, for in your weakness I am made strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Over the past few weeks, I have had a few false starts drafting this entry as I considered a series of experiences. One recent night as I laid in bed tossing and turning in an attempt to fall asleep, the passage above occurred to me and I had to begin to write.

My grace is sufficient for thee.

Some of you know that I moved to North Philadelphia last year and I just celebrated my one year anniversary. During the time here, I have seen God's grace at work.

Prior to purchasing my home, when I envisioned myself in my own house, the image in no way resembled this neighborhood. However, I knew that the decision I made was the correct one. Confident in my decision, I purchased and, nearly a year later, moved from Northwest Philly (I am a West Mt. Airyite) to North Philly.

So, here I am in North Philadelphia and I have only uttered “Are you crazy?” just a few times to myself. Things are actually working out. I am enjoying my home, my neighborhood, and the wonders unfurling before my eyes day by day.

Wonders discovered in a lot just across the street from my home. Trash once blanketed the weedy lot, but now it is freshly mown and cleaned. I was awestruck upon discovering that someone came along and cleaned up the entire lot one day. A wish uttered between neighbors became a reality. I always picked up what I could, particularly the recyclables. In early spring, before the trash was removed, I was delighted to see the daffodils first and, later, the irises push through the debris to reveal their radiant yellow and regal purple petals. Just recently, I was prepared to send out a mass email asking to borrow a lawn mower when a man showed up with one. (I don’t know who he was or how it was that he had come to mow.) When I returned home that evening, the lot looked like a freshly shorn head. The guys that once sat on my step playing dice, have moved on. With a little work, faith and conversation with them, I have learned more about honor, trust and love. These are just a few brief accounts of some of the most incredible things I have witnessed since moving here.

I have a new appreciation for the Spirit’s whispers and leadings, for God’s people and the Quaker principle that there is "that of God" in all people. Most important, I have grown.

A step of faith. Blessings unfurled. God’s grace is sufficient.

Able to leap tall buildings...

2009-05-04T13:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I completed the infamous Broad Street Run, a 10-mile run through north and south Philadelphia.

I began training three weeks ago and can’t believe I did it. In the steady rain, I ran from Broad and Somerville to the Philadelphia Navy Yard's Marine Parade Grounds. While most of the time, I wore my brimmed, tan rain hat, there were moments when I took it off to show off my salt and pepper hair. Me, a runner in the infamous Broad Street Run. I wanted people to see who I was under that hat and I wanted to let them know that if I could do it, so could they.

Something about this silver makes me feel free and at ease."Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.” So, I made my way down Broad Street with a wide smile, encouraging other runners, thanking the police officers, teen volunteers, and everyone who was there to encourage us along the way.

I don’t know how I did it. I remember preparing and reminding myself the night before and the day of “to have fun, take your time, and walk when you have to.” And I did have fun, took my time and walked (about three blocks) when I needed to.

With the silver The Navy Yard archway sign in sight, I began crying. “Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus. I am so thankful.” Then realizing I was not at the finish line, I had to pull it together quickly and reserve that energy to get through the next mile or so. Tears dried up and I ran on. “Come on, come on. Let’s go,” I told myself. “You are almost there.”

Got there I did. This new runner’s time was 2:32:15, one hour over the average time of 1:35. I got to the finish line!

This life is full of races and finish lines that we have to push through to cross. Our ancestors pushed through. Let us do the same. The challenges before us are many, but we are able. Its in us. A part of our DNA. So lace up your sneakers and head for the finish line. See you there.

http://www.broadstreetrun.com/site3.aspx

2009-04-09T10:23:00.001-07:00

Three weeks have passed since I shed the brown hue and cut my hair to reveal the salt and pepper.

And last week, I was asked by my chief colleague - the vice president (my boss) - why I cut it. He recognized and said that "it could not have been an easy decision". He was right. You know that.

First he complimented me. He said "I really like what you did with your hair," and then, he asked why. I explained that it began in December and that it took a lot of courage. Verbatim:"I am not the norm around here (at the job). The norm is young and blond hair. I made a decision to be who I am. It was not easy one, but it is who I am. I spoke to friends and received encouragement from them and engaged in a lot of self talk. Then decided that whatever happens would happen." He agreed.

Among the comments received:
"It is so you. Now you need to pierce your nose."
"You look like your mother."
"You look like your father."
"I really like your hair. Its so easy to care for."
"You have a nice face for that style."

"You look very distinquished."

It is all fascinating.

As I move about, I am checking out the looks. The comments. Taking notes. Its an experiment that I am enjoying. There is one comment that sits in the back of mind. It actually is a comment directed to another silver friend. It was not meant to be heard, but heard it she did. "Doesn't she know what a bottle of hair dye looks like?" She said nothing. Today, she continues to wear her hair natural and dye free. It is beautiful and bright against her smooth dark chocolate skin.

I am salt and pepper. I face the mirror every day and see me at 51. Its a little surreal, but this is who I am. And I am getting better.

Question: Why is it perfectly acceptable for a man to have gray hair, but less so for a woman? Really. Please give it some thought and let me know.

Freedom Hair

2009-03-23T12:46:00.000-07:00

So what? So what I decided to go "silver", the gentle word I've chosen to describe my peviously colored hair?

Three and half months after my father passed away, I cut my hair on a full moon, early morn in December 2008. After an awesome dinner, including a rich, deep dark chocolate flan, with my buddies at Candace’s place, I couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning in my bed for an hour and half (thanks to the chocolate!), about 2:00 a.m., I turned on the bedside lamp, picked up a book, and within minutes, I knew I had to cut my locks.

Locks was my hair style of choice for about seven years during which time, I cut them twice, each time settling on a style that was nearly shoulder length. But this night, I had to cut them off. It felt freeing and right. Like I was finally in the right flow.

I had colored my hair for years. As my hair grew, the years passed, and the silver intensified, I began coloring every two to three weeks using a color stick in between colorings to keep up the facade. I stood in the mirror that morning and took the scissors to my hair and, like a wolf howling at the moon above affirming her place in the world, so did I.

Three months later, last Saturday morning was the day of reckoning. I knew it just as clearly as knew to cut my locks that December morn. I picked up the phone and made my first call. Yes! My favorite barber, the very popular Leroi, was able to see me at three. It was confirmation 'cause that just don't happen. (He's good!) I was flowing in the spirit. I called my proud silver or partially silver friends to announce my decision and received their encouragement. I am woman, hear me roar!

Come Monday morning, day three of my new look, it was time to go to work. The roar had weakened to a low, concerned moan. What am doing about my hair? It looked good on Saturday and Sunday. Why was today different? My first instinct was to camouflage the silver. I got a grip of myself, styled my hair and announced to me, "This is it!"

Meekly, I walked in the office. (Its such a youth-oriented, mainstream place.) I wasn't sure if I could do this now (even though I posted "is going silver" as my status on FB just two days before to prepare my office mates for the new look). What happened to the me who said "I am used to thumbing my nose at convention. Devil may care. I don't"?

Well, I care. I am working through this new look. We'll see what happens. For now, I am wearing my silver halo around my face. I am silver, hear me roar!

Today, a co-worker gave me an "Older Than Dirt" ribbon after I teased him about the birthday gifts he gave to a female co-worker who had just turned 40. It was all in fun. But the timing is interesting on this first day of being openly silver.