Two things happened the year my birthday came around and brought me closer to sixty than fifty:
First, I decided to let my hair go “natural.” It was a gutsy decision that I revisited many, many times in my head, but as of right now, I am sticking with it.
The reactions of people were interesting, from “please cover that grey!” to “I love it!” My kids disliked it at first, then they got used to it–not sure if they actually like it at all, but they have accepted it.
I am still not settled on how I feel about the grey hair in the mirror. At first, I thought I liked it, but then the lady in the mirror made me feel old. I don’t like the fact that her hair color has the power to determine how I feel about her, but it did. I actually found myself slowing down, saying “no” to things that require a lot of energy, as though the lady in the mirror’s hair color changed my attitude, as though it had a voice whispering that I was too old for this or that–suggesting that it was too late.
Second, I was told that one of my jobs was ending at the end of the month, and I found myself having a difficult time showing up with enthusiasm. It was hard to truly invest myself into that job; what’s the point, now that it’s ending?
And my reaction to these two changes in my life shocked me. Am I calling it quits? Am I not willing to invest in the future any longer, just because of a new season and a grey haired lady in the mirror?
I just don’t like that the color of my hair or the smoothness of my skin can dictate my feelings, attitudes, facial expressions, words, goals or lack thereof. And this somehow made me think about all these elderly people who say they are ready to die, they are done with living, they don’t mind… Do these attitudes come with the knowledge that things are coming to an end, and there isn’t much point in investing oneself any longer? Like my job? Or the message that my natural hair color speaks to me?
I don’t like this at all.
Better go get that hair colored, girl, or better change your thoughts.
So I just changed my mind.
And I reframed my thoughts.
So I decided that my hair color is earned, and rather than declaring the beginning of the end, I am deciding that it is declaring the season of harvest.
Harvest on all those hours of hard work. Harvest of serenity, and settled spirit, and strength of character built over years of practice. Harvest of joy in view of all the advantages that age produces.
My harvest is bigger than the sum of what I have been. And the benefits, they are in the Now. They will fall upon me, grey hair and all, and on the fruit of the wombs of those who are yet to come.
I simply choose to get passionate again and dare myself again to live fully, grey hair and all. Especially grey hair. It will ignite my purpose, it will keep my dream fueled.
When I stare at the grey haired lady in the mirror, I will tell her that the best is yet to come. I will see the sparkly of hope as she lives in the Now.
And she will love the Now, even until the last Now she will ever live on planet earth. Especially that one.
I am good with that.
Wanna come on over to my new blog www.barbaraisaac.com and check it out?
Sometimes, I link up with any or all of these wonderful writers: Hearts 4 Home,SDG, Hearts Reflected, WLW, EOA, Things I can’t say, Growing Home, Play Dates with God, Monday Musings, Hear it on Sunday,Inspire Me Monday, Tell me a Story, The Better Mom, a Mama’s Story, Into the Word, In and Around Mondays,OYHT, Gratituesday,Titus2Tuesdays, Extraordinay, Lessons from Ivy,Denise in Bloom, Sweet Blessings, Faith Filled Friday, Finding Joy,WholeHearted Home, Mom’s the Word, Reclaiming a Redeemed Life, Still Saturday. Wildcrafting Wednesdays, WFMW