Funny, getting a haircut and I walk in, a lady cutting hair, not turning around to look at me or make eye contact says, in a dark firm and low voice, “Did you register online?” Not sure if I was her voice-aim, I said, “Me?”
“Yeah you,” she speared.
I said I hadn’t and a coworker of hers who wound up approaching me at the check-in desk lightly laughed, I said to myself, a bit audibly, “Wow.. that was.. friendly.” I was scheduled and seated, waiting, hoping that first voice wouldn’t be the character cutting my hair. The Story seemed to be telling me to leave, “Don’t get your hair cut here, you’ll get that lady with your luck..” And surely, I did. I should have listened to the Story, I thought to myself, walking to her chair and sitting, her putting the guard or apron or cove over me. “So how to you like your hair cut?” she asked.
I explained, after noticing her tone was lighter, more inviting and welcoming, possibly cognizant of her first impression. So the haircut was motioned and I felt more comfortable, slightly, still guarded and if any tone or attitude, resurfaced, I’d walk out, I don’t care if half my hair was off, I’d bloody leave. but I didn’t. We talked and she cut my hair with a kind detailedness that I’d never encountered in a cutter or cuttress. Her name, Desiree, a name I’d always loved and it attached to past characters whom I’ve enjoyed conversations with and never forgotten. She explained that she too loved the rain and asked what else I had planned on this pouring day, and where I live, where she then explained she lived in Guerneville and had been at that shop for over 5 year, had a daughter with a beautiful name that now me escapes. The conversation was full and constant, lovely like the rain, and I thought of how the Story may have been wrong. Or maybe this is what it intended, teaching me to be patient, not judge, not be too quick with characters, let them develop and tell their stories. “I’ll give you a coupon for your next visit, okay? And the expiration date at the bottom I’ll scratch off and sign,” she added. I knew I only wanted her to cut next time, my next visit. She offered a rinse of the hair so I wouldn’t ‘have little bits of hair falling in my eyes throughout the day’, as she put it. Again, an extra step. So thankful I didn’t leave, and I Self-examine for lesson. I have to be slow in this new year and all those in tow. Meditative, let the Story teach you, tell you.. SHOW you.
Now, back home, I write about it. A reminder to myself, and the writing I hope I’m growing to be in this new year.