Allow me to introduce you to my Hair Valet, shown in my featured photo. I call it my “Hair Valet” because it allows me to do my hair without so-much-as touching it. It spins, you see, and dries – at the same time!
Two things I want to touch on – and that’s a pun – touch on – because one of the things I want to discuss is touching.
The other thing… paying attention. And, I’m going there first.
I’d been using my Valet for about three months before I noticed there was a major – as in MAJOR – rats-nest on the left side of my head, in back. I hadn’t created it myself to add bulk, though I could have, if I cared enough about such things as thinning hair. (I could mega-digress here because I actually DO care a little, especially when my hair parts into sixths on top, looking like a road map in the prairies.
“Go this way. No that! Over here. Over there! This way to the right ear!” You get my meaning.)
If I had “cared enough” to tease it into submission (and not look like a tumbleweed, which fine, thin hair most certainly can!), it would have been far different than this creation, which looked like a cyclone-shaped hair-straw, if you can picture it.
I carefully combed it out.
And I will get back to this subject in a moment, as well, because in truth, I yanked the comb through it, breaking my precious commodity (hair) into a million split-ends. Pretty.
Anywho, after a few more dries, it suddenly occurred to me – and by this I mean, I had an actual “Ah, ha!” moment – as I watched my hair twirl around on the barrel of the brush.
Now see, this is where it gets tangled – as in, literally.
While the bulk of my hair is sliding nicely around the barrel… the hair next to it is twirling like a pretty ballerina… really, really fast. But that’s even putting the cart before the horse, as they say, because on the instructions for the spinning brush, it says to pick up the hair you want to dry and gently place it into the brush on the barrel and then turn it on. I also hadn’t been doing that because “touching” which yes, again, I will get back to that.
So, what I’d been doing is lifting the hair with the spinning brush – you know, as it’s spinning – and pulling it in. And, when I say pulling, I mean pulling! Like a vortex.
So, um. No wonder?
This reminds me that I am not paying attention. I am normally a GREAT pay-attention-er! I am a nit-picker, “the shampoo is almost gone so buy more before that happens”-er, the nosiest neighbor peeking between the blinds-er! Nothing goes on without MY knowing about it. Accept a hair-storm that’s been brewing for three months, obviously.
I was thinking about it this morning and I put on my underwear backwards – no kidding! I had to take them off and put them back on like I’m a 3-year-old. Then, I forgot my phone downstairs and actually screamed the eff-word to nobody because my husband isn’t even home to hear it. I don’t know where the cats were.
Paying attention much? Or, not at all?
And… the touching thing. Or, I should say… the NO-touching thing. I used to be a lotion-and-potion QUEEN. I slathered the stuff all over my body and was softer than the average bear. Smelled better, too! And then one day… when was it?… I just stopped. How long has it been? I don’t even know.
Oh, occasionally I’ll throw some on and by that I mean, throw some on. No care. No lovingkindness. No treating my body like the temple it is.
The thing is… I buy the stuff. I get it as gifts. It sits very pretty on my dresser. Just not on me.
When I was working and putting on cosmetics every day, I found face makeup that had a little sponge on the end, so I didn’t have to touch it.
I’ve told you about my hair. I didn’t tell you that my leave in conditioner is spray-in, though I do have some that you massage-in with your hands. <<< Obviously, dislike those!
So, what’s going on?
- Paying attention – about big things, and little
- Touching, and if I do, getting rough with myself, like ripping through a tangle in my hair
What’s it all about?
As discussed previously, this is the year of rebuilding from the foundation up. This stuff is foundational.
To be fair, some of it may be my anxiety, which is (at times) severe. I s’pose it could also be depression, though it seems unlikely since it’s been “under control” (whatever that means) at different times throughout recent years. I think to look at either as the culprit is too-easy a way out.
I think it comes down to a lack of self-everything (worth, esteem, care, etc. etc. etc.).
And, THIS is why I can’t move forward, though I so desperately want to.
I get kinda mad at myself for stuff like this. I have shelves full of books to help me, that’s for sure.
What do my books say?
What does my brain say?
Wait. What’s that?
Maybe I am depressed?
It *is* mid-January, dark and gloomy, in a pandemic when even coffee with a friend is impossible. I’m unemployed, worried about my US-family (more than ever, considering the political climate and health issues of my parents and children) and I’m totally off my depression meds.
Could it be so easy?