on my walk
the first walk
of the rest of my walks
in this life
this glorious time
of letting go
i find
i have found
i remembered:
these are my commandments:
get up
show up
learn to listen so that you might one day allow yourself to hear
follow direction
do unto others as you would have them do unto you
give thanks and praises
ask and receive
pass it on
Saturday, November 05, 2005
about now
all,
i am actively engaged in radical transformation.
for a dozen or so years now, my life has been the exact life of my dreams. maybe, if i'm completely honest, my whole 39 years have been my dream life. and yesterday--no, the yesterday before yesterday...or maybe even the yesterday before that, a woman arrived in my studio, and cut my hair. she cut ten glorious inches off my long, straight, hippy do, and i returned, finally, to myself. when i was last myself, i met my husband. he found me, with a similar cut, similar color. my haircut angel then was crispin, a meticulous student at vidal sassoon, who was painstakingly precise with his precision cuts. he would climb all 108 stairs to get to my garret flat on knaresborough road in earl's court. he would smile, like the young, short elf that he was. he would cut. he would reveal. over the year i was there, he would come to me 3 or 4 times. on one occassion, i think i stopped in the school. for some trick of memory, as i write this, i remember, perhaps wrongly, that someone else added the tiger stripes of color to my sophisticated cut. maybe it was him? but anyway, like the miracle of him, this new becky arrived in the studio a week ago. she was on her way to somewhere else, which is always how we find the coolest people who are supposed to come and play with us. she told me, with bright light in her eyes, of the conference she'd just been to where she found rejuvination and new direction. when i asked more about the conference, she told me she was a sylist. when i told her i'd been thinking of something new, she said she'd been looking at my hair and might love to color it. i agreed to let her. we negotiated price and time and place details. i handed her an envelope inviting her to come and play with us. she metnioned that she had some orange just like the halloween bright i'd handed her, and i realized, after i'd said she could do anything, that she just might. i told my beloved i might have pink and orange hair next wednesday. he wanted to, but didn't jump out of his skin. blindly, and with great faith, we faced the wednesday appointment. i arrived to find her, trunk open, in the parking lot. our black and silver similarities showing as i pulled in next to her and parked. we went in to the studio. in the interim, i had talked with my sweet sister back in kansas, who told me she'd cut off ten inches and sent it to locks of love. i inquired. she cut. the pile of length sat waiting--lovingly set aside, and then she went to work. the cut. the cut. the cut. the snip. the snip. the words poured out of us. the cut. the snip. the memories. the snip. the cut. the cut. the snip. the trim. the measure. the measure. the cut. the cut . the snip. the revelation. the cut. the snip. the snip. the trim. ta da! and then, what she had come to do. the purple. the gold. the orange. the clear white blond. the stunning. the stunning. the wow. and then, the writing? no reading. performing with foils. the documentation of the process. the reading. the reading. she, a poetess as well. invitation. invitation. she a psychic. invitation. revelation. we, there together, unwrapping, and wa la. here. yes. in this dusty mirror, i see. oh, yes. i see. and she sees. and i see her seeing. and yes! there we are? she. me. there! there we are! reflected. and i brought what she forgot and the hum and buzz and delight started roaring in blow dryer streams of yes! we are happy. are you happy? yes. are you happy? yes? and a check, and a hug and a snap and an image and she disappeared to walk in the woods and i returned to the studio and gathered up my hair and continued on, toward my life. realizing i was here...oh, yes, this is me...and watching, as the weight of hiding fell off of me, literally, and i was deep breath free.
and then the compliments came like rain in early winter california.
and then he told me i looked like autumn.
and then, this morning, the wake and roll and rejoice and giggle and courage to make it into my ryka's and walk with the early bit of orange split sky as it, too was waking up.
and his reminder: whenever you wake up, is your morning.
and i know, today, now, in this connection, i am initiated, beautiful and finally free.
finally,
the weight of hiding
of not being
who i am
can go
and i am willing
to show up
to let it
pass
and it will flow
effortlessly
out of me
and i am grateful
i am actively engaged in radical transformation.
for a dozen or so years now, my life has been the exact life of my dreams. maybe, if i'm completely honest, my whole 39 years have been my dream life. and yesterday--no, the yesterday before yesterday...or maybe even the yesterday before that, a woman arrived in my studio, and cut my hair. she cut ten glorious inches off my long, straight, hippy do, and i returned, finally, to myself. when i was last myself, i met my husband. he found me, with a similar cut, similar color. my haircut angel then was crispin, a meticulous student at vidal sassoon, who was painstakingly precise with his precision cuts. he would climb all 108 stairs to get to my garret flat on knaresborough road in earl's court. he would smile, like the young, short elf that he was. he would cut. he would reveal. over the year i was there, he would come to me 3 or 4 times. on one occassion, i think i stopped in the school. for some trick of memory, as i write this, i remember, perhaps wrongly, that someone else added the tiger stripes of color to my sophisticated cut. maybe it was him? but anyway, like the miracle of him, this new becky arrived in the studio a week ago. she was on her way to somewhere else, which is always how we find the coolest people who are supposed to come and play with us. she told me, with bright light in her eyes, of the conference she'd just been to where she found rejuvination and new direction. when i asked more about the conference, she told me she was a sylist. when i told her i'd been thinking of something new, she said she'd been looking at my hair and might love to color it. i agreed to let her. we negotiated price and time and place details. i handed her an envelope inviting her to come and play with us. she metnioned that she had some orange just like the halloween bright i'd handed her, and i realized, after i'd said she could do anything, that she just might. i told my beloved i might have pink and orange hair next wednesday. he wanted to, but didn't jump out of his skin. blindly, and with great faith, we faced the wednesday appointment. i arrived to find her, trunk open, in the parking lot. our black and silver similarities showing as i pulled in next to her and parked. we went in to the studio. in the interim, i had talked with my sweet sister back in kansas, who told me she'd cut off ten inches and sent it to locks of love. i inquired. she cut. the pile of length sat waiting--lovingly set aside, and then she went to work. the cut. the cut. the cut. the snip. the snip. the words poured out of us. the cut. the snip. the memories. the snip. the cut. the cut. the snip. the trim. the measure. the measure. the cut. the cut . the snip. the revelation. the cut. the snip. the snip. the trim. ta da! and then, what she had come to do. the purple. the gold. the orange. the clear white blond. the stunning. the stunning. the wow. and then, the writing? no reading. performing with foils. the documentation of the process. the reading. the reading. she, a poetess as well. invitation. invitation. she a psychic. invitation. revelation. we, there together, unwrapping, and wa la. here. yes. in this dusty mirror, i see. oh, yes. i see. and she sees. and i see her seeing. and yes! there we are? she. me. there! there we are! reflected. and i brought what she forgot and the hum and buzz and delight started roaring in blow dryer streams of yes! we are happy. are you happy? yes. are you happy? yes? and a check, and a hug and a snap and an image and she disappeared to walk in the woods and i returned to the studio and gathered up my hair and continued on, toward my life. realizing i was here...oh, yes, this is me...and watching, as the weight of hiding fell off of me, literally, and i was deep breath free.
and then the compliments came like rain in early winter california.
and then he told me i looked like autumn.
and then, this morning, the wake and roll and rejoice and giggle and courage to make it into my ryka's and walk with the early bit of orange split sky as it, too was waking up.
and his reminder: whenever you wake up, is your morning.
and i know, today, now, in this connection, i am initiated, beautiful and finally free.
finally,
the weight of hiding
of not being
who i am
can go
and i am willing
to show up
to let it
pass
and it will flow
effortlessly
out of me
and i am grateful
and then i walked...
today
i walked
i used my long
and beautiful
legs
to climb up
my
mountain
i reveled
in the rich orange
that opened the sky
from it's
dark
night
i drank in
deep
the crisp
air
of autumn
and i felt
the glory
of god's
paintbrush
working
me in
to the
perfection
of
this
day
i walked
i used my long
and beautiful
legs
to climb up
my
mountain
i reveled
in the rich orange
that opened the sky
from it's
dark
night
i drank in
deep
the crisp
air
of autumn
and i felt
the glory
of god's
paintbrush
working
me in
to the
perfection
of
this
day
today, while i can...
today, my beloved
woke
me
up
and i reveled
in the anticipated
affection
and rolled
in ecstasy
as only
a married woman
of many years
can
with the man
who made
her
and then i ran the bath
and luxuriated
in watching him
soap up and rinse off
in the clear cage
of shower
arranged for my
viewing
pleasure
and i was grateful
precious lord
so grateful
for this glorious
way
to
start
the
day
and
i remembered
my african prince
and how he is
always
saying
whenever you wake up
that's your morning
woke
me
up
and i reveled
in the anticipated
affection
and rolled
in ecstasy
as only
a married woman
of many years
can
with the man
who made
her
and then i ran the bath
and luxuriated
in watching him
soap up and rinse off
in the clear cage
of shower
arranged for my
viewing
pleasure
and i was grateful
precious lord
so grateful
for this glorious
way
to
start
the
day
and
i remembered
my african prince
and how he is
always
saying
whenever you wake up
that's your morning
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