The Secret To A Good Hair Day

The Secret To A Good Hair Day

The East wind is blowing as I’m walking through the Farmer’s Market. I’m watching the cold wind smack the lettuce off my hot fish taco.

When I look up I see a woman waving at me from a booth. I walk over and recognize her from other places in town.

“I can’t remember your name,” she says, “but I sure remember your hair!”

My hair is white. I call it platinum, and I have lots of it. It’s bouncing in the wind now, blowing and billowing around my head in a whipped frenzy.

This hair has a lot of energy. My mother used to say “I can always tell when you’re upset Venus, or when something dramatic is going on in your life because it stands straight out all over your head.”

Oh yes. It’s curly, too.

My hair is electric; sometimes more so then others.

When my hair is wet it looks like almost nothing is there. It sticks to my head making my face look like a pecan in it’s shell or the top part of a long green onion.

As the hair begins to dry it gains momentum and is soon flying around my head and face like white frosting shot from a can.

People marvel at the change.

Why am I rapturing on about my hair to you? In a moment you will know.

‘Sue’ is telling me she is at the farmer’s market every week selling baby clothes that she sews herself. She makes a pittance, she says.

I look around her booth. Yep. Lot’s of baby clothes.

“Why do you keep sewing them if it’s not bringing in much?”

Sue tells me she donates the proceeds to The Make A Wish Foundation.

“It makes me feel good” she says. “Like I’m doing something to help.”

I squint my eyes and say, “Did you lose someone close to you?”

“Yes, my daughter died in a car crash twenty five years ago. I miss her every day.”

Sue pauses. “And I had a still born child.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

“And now my last child…” she says slowly, ” my daughter who’s forty-seven has just found out she has Huntington’s. She will be dead in maybe ten years. It’s a long, terrible death.”

I’m stricken. Why do some people lose their child and some people lose all their children? Another friend in town has lost all her children, too.

“Everybody seems to have a theme or two in their lives,” I say. I am trying to be helpful but I know I fall short. But, I try. “Sometimes we work all our lives to even make a little money, or we have health issues that take all our attention, or bad kids, or bad relationships…”

We hug. What else can we do?

I‘m sad and I stop to see my brother Jim at his mobile kitchen. We sit at a patio table. He has white hair like mine and it is all jumpy today, looking like he caught it in barbed wire.

Jim jumps in again as he always does, talking about how he doesn’t know how he can hang in money wise, he can’t even pay himself, he can’t buy gas, everyone loves his food, what’s he doing wrong, he has always been successful, he’s worked so hard and now it’s a big wind day and that will keep people away and..”

“Stop,” I say. I tell Jim about Sue at the Farmer’s Market. Jim puts his head on the wood table.

“It would kill me if something happened to my child,” he says. “I need to stop complaining.”

“Yes,” I say, “and I need your help. Remember how every morning and evening for awhile you would picture me and my bad ankle in your mind and bring the light in, and you would call in Mom and have her help?”

He does.

“Well, it was working. My foot and ankle got so much better, Jim! You are a marvel. But, since you’ve stopped, I’m not in very good shape, again..will you please work on me some more?”

Jim says, “I need to stop thinking so much about myself and do stuff like that.”

“You’re really good, Jim. You have tremendous power just like the rest of us in this family. I think you need to help me. I think you need to do more of this work to help other people. I think you’re taking all this power you have and turning it against yourself and this makes your life and your work so much harder.”

“You think so?” he says.

“Yeah. I do.”

I am thinking of my hair! My hair shows off all the energy I have. Long ago I discovered that the concentrated energy of my thinking could turn on me and throw me into emotional darkness. When I was especially into myself and my problems my hair would go torturously mad.

Eventually, I learned that I had to help people. I had to do what I call The Work. When I didn’t direct the power outward to help people with their problems and shine light and hope into their lives, I suffered. I suffered because all the bottled up energy got too big for me to handle and it would turn on me.

Jim has the same issue. I think all people have this big energy to one degree or another.

There’s a lot of depressed and unhappy people. Why is this? Is it the big energy going backwards? Are you stabbing yourself with it?

I believe this is why the world keeps nattering on, saying things like, “Get outside yourself and volunteer. Do something to help other people or animals. Stop thinking about yourself. Make a difference.”

It’s why Sue puts her energies into sewing and selling baby clothes to help sick children. She says it makes her happy to do so. Sue has found the secret. She has taken the energy that would torture her if she fixated on the loss of her children and is spinning it outward. The big energy is ripped away from her and spun into gold to help the helpless.

Take all your worries and troubles and turn them into bubbles. Let them loose in the world. Hold a hand. Help a friend. Make a friend. Build a roof for someone who’s home needs a roof. Knit a happy blanket for a child. Think good thoughts for all sentient beings. Pray morning and night. Pray all the time. Put the good energy to good work. You are the Master and Mistress of the Universe. Spread your good works like God’s banner through the Universes. You have the power. You are the light, you are the wind and you work for God.

Instead of feeling disgusted when your hair starts looking unruly maybe it’s a sign that it’s time to do more Good Works?

Spread the Good Energy and see if you feel lighter and more full of cheer.  Maybe your hair will even look better!

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