The hair cut
The men came the other day to whack, saw, cut and scrape the Queen Palms in the side yard, the very same palms whose fronds were so huge seen from the height of the red tower built in back of the LaLa where I was to be the king sitting in her counting house counting all her money, only now the whole enterprise has shifted to a brave new world of getting, less spending, and learning how to be. Believe me this was forced exile into the land of the few, but having arrived here I truly marvel that I was ever there, wherever that was.
I cried when I first saw the frondless, chopped up, skinny tall Queen palms – all of that lushness gone and now sun coming in everywhere you look. My palms have been a source of problems – they allowed those pesky termites to travel to my roof, they swiped the windows and walls of neighbors scaring them in the night with the swishing to and fro – and now they are just these straight arrows, pruned to the point of nonrecognition. Much like myself.
Yesterday, sitting on the bayou with the beautiful scarf a friend brought me from Indonesia a neighbor said you look so glamourous – well necessity is the mother of invention and despite having given away 99% of my scarves last year in the Great Purge (who knew I would be bald this year and actually need scarves) – I have found new ways to wear head scarves, many new ways.
I read a blog about why you shouldn’t have a job. But what has caught my attention more than learning how not to work, is realizing that there is a deeper meaning to life’s work and that doesn’t mean you should head to the nearest nonprofit, but more that you should evaluate how you live from the ground up – I blindly bought into the rat race fully believing there was no other way – until the path presented itself and now, I’m scratching my head as to why I was going down the other path.
Listening to John Bloom the other night about rethinking money and the making of money was enlightening. I would suggest a listen to this interview but also read his blog or even his book. We are hoping to read this book soon, but in the meantime you can read Bloom’s thoughts on his blog.
For now suffice to say, having had my own hair cut, though I don’t recognize myself in the mirror no more than I recognize the Queen palms in the yard, it has allowed the light to come in and remove the sinister shadows that allowed armies of life force sucking pests to run ramshod over me.