The hair story

Somewhere in my impulsive teenage years, I heard the song, I am not my hair by India Arie and it inspired me. I made a promise to my brother that ‘once in my life’ I will shave my head. Back then I didn’t had the balls to go for a haircut that includes a shaving machine, but I did have the courage to cut most of it. Now, years later I finally found the balls and did it!

The first and main reason I wanted to shave my hair was because it was freakin’ annoying most of the time. It tickles, it’s all over the place, disturbing me all day. Of course I can only blame myself for this as I am too lazy to brush my hair and living in the van (without shower) doesn’t help as well.

The idea of shaving my hair came to me when we crossed the border of France to Spain. I wanted it all gone, but with no shaving machine around I asked Evi to cut it with a scissor.
After a day of contemplating what length it should be, I decided that I was very comfortable inside my comfort zone so with some sharp instructions the dead ends fell on the muddy ground. It was the best hairdresser I’ve ever been – with a incredible sea view.

This was just after the visit to the ‘hairdresser’.

The last weeks I’ve been wearing my hair up on my head so it wouldn’t bother me. Which let to the result of a big mess when I would take out the hair wrap. The idea came again: shaving my head. As I am a human being, I pushed this idea away, my hair was very important to me. It’s like a trademark, something I could hide behind, covering my face. But also I could be busy with it: worrying how it looks like. Beautiful curls that could be worn in many different ways.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, checking my hair, I came across my eyes. By looking myself honestly in the eyes the answer came: wearing it up most of the time and being annoyed by it the rest of the time is not the way to move forward in life. And ever since, I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t sleep, I was imagining myself without hair all night.

Witness the fear

The day after, we came home to our Italian friends, I asked if they had a shaving machine, they did and off to the bathroom we went.

Deciding to do something and then actually doing it, is a big difference. Try to imagine yourself without your hair.. Fuck man, it’s a big thing. Doing this is a big “I LOVE YOU’ to myself. To love myself in all conditions.

A lot of fear falls away with cutting the hair. It is a re-birth. Years of conditioned beliefs have been cut away with a single hand movement. Being without hair has been so good, it’s freedom. It’s light. It deepens the sense of self, beyond the external layer of our existence. As India Arie sings; “I am not my hair”.

We are not how we look like, our faces, bodies, clothes. They are merely a reflection of us.
We are not the things we have: a house, a car, our children. They are only a reflection of us.
We are neither the things we do, our skills & accomplishments. They are a reflection of our choices.
Neither are we the things we support: being vegan, religious or a ‘healer’. They are a reflection our choices.

What you give – to yourself, to the other and to Mother Earth – is what is left.
Radiate your LOVE.


3 thoughts on “The hair story

  1. Love love love — so proud that the day came when you finally felt the strength of the cunt (strongest muscle in all human bodies to do it! And LOOK AT THAT GLORIOUS FACE

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: