“Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be
sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead
of joy." James 4:9
A month and a half ago, a friend of mine who I hadn’t seen in
several months asked me why I decided to cut my hair so short. We were engaged
in an early morning mission to move me out of my then condo and as we carried
boxes from my gate to her car, I told her my ready reasons: I wanted to start
over with my hair, I wanted to stop hiding who I really was, I was ready for a
change in my life and this symbolized a fresh start—the reasons I already had
in my head, the reasons I’d already been telling other people, the reasons I
knew I was still trying to figure out. Then Delia said something that made me
momentarily forget all of those reasons. She said something that rang so true
that I recognized it immediately as the unnamed one, the reason I felt but didn’t
know how to express. Mourning. She mentioned that in some ancient religions people
shaved their heads as a sign of mourning.
And I thought without a doubt, “Yes… that’s what I did! That’s what I’m
doing.”
A few weeks into my new do I realized that cutting my hair hadn’t
made anything but my hair new. I had not begun an immediate, dramatic change in
my life; less hair did not mean less struggles; and not only did I not experience
the instant relief I’d been after, I’d
also given myself an extra dose of self-consciousness to bear.
But that was all fine
because from the day I moved out of my condo to the moment you are reading this
post, I’ve been realizing how right Delia was about this mourning thing. Every time
I run my hands over and through my short kinks I’m reminded that [3 weeks ago,
1 month ago, 6 weeks ago] 2 and a half months ago there was something that I
wanted to cut off, something about which I was very sorry. I’m reminded that a
long time ago, even before that particular incident, there was a way I lived
that I deeply regretted—a life involving a great deal of hiding, a life lacking integrity.
At the time I cut my hair I wanted to take these things away, I wanted to start over, I wanted to be a new person. But solely cutting my hair could not make me new. At the time I cut my hair, I didn’t realize that what I was truly seeking was a way to express grief, to offer up an “I’m sorry,” to mourn. I didn’t realize it then, but I do now.
Thank you so much Delia for helping me understand.
Beautiful vulnerability. I was reminded of Psalm 103 as I read this. And in regards to mourning, there's a book that I recommend called Sacred Sorrow. Thanks for being so open with this post :)
ReplyDelete:). Thank you for the book recommendation <3.
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