Usually the expression for rallying determination for success is “Go for the gold!” But in this case, I’m talking about hair, and I’ve already been a blonde. (Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” era. I looked like a freak.) The project I’m rallying for is a big one – authenticity – but now I’m wondering if I have what it takes to go for the silver, meaning letting my hair go grey again.
I shouldn’t be nervous; I’ve done this before. When the Hubbins and I were courtin’, he went to kiss me one night, but recoiled and said, “What’s that chemical smell?” (If Nathan were a comic book superhero, as opposed to the real superhero he is, his power would be highly sensitive olfactory senses. His name would probably have to be The Bloodhound, or The Nose.)
You know a relationship is serious when you confess to habits that were private when dating. Mine: “I should probably tell you that I color my hair. I have a few grays.” The truth stretched like a yoga master, because I had more than a few.
The Hubbins begged me to stop applying chemicals to my scalp and go natural, being a superhero and supporter of women in their natural state, or just upset at the thought of his new girlfriend stinking like a chemistry set every three weeks. That began a few years of letting the grays grow. The plus side: I had a pretty fabulous white streak right at the front. What I perceived as the negative side was my mixed salt n’ pepper in the back of my head, and the fact that I couldn’t fool anyone about my age.
You know I’ve been reading and following Yogi Cameron’s The One Plan, a life overhaul based on the yoga sutras. I’m on the part about the ethical principle of satya, or truth. Among the questions YC asks: “Do I engage in infidelity?” Heck no! “Do I cheat (in games, competitions)?” No. Never. “Do I lie about my age?” No!
Well, not if someone asks my age.
Um . . . Does coloring my hair count as lying about my age? Or attempting to? Or trying to hold on to a youthful version of me, even though it’s quite obvious from public photos of me that I used to have honest grey hair and now have brown? Does that count? I envision Yogi Cameron looking at me patiently, as yogis do, and asking me to meditate on this.
I have been, ever since I saw the arresting, empowering photos in Silver: A State of Mind by Vicki Topaz. The silver-haired women she photographed had inner power that was very beautiful, as well as a dash of moxie that was undeniably attractive. They were themselves, unabashedly, proudly.
I’d love to be able to say that. But do I have what it takes to go for the silver?
PS: Will post photos of me with and without silver hair in a future blog so you can tell me what you think of the difference.