Pushing It

"Perfect 10," hand collage on playing card, Laura Tringali Holmes, 2011

When I decided to stop coloring my hair, my hair cutter advised a buzz cut, overdying, and a head-wrapping scarf to shield the world from my transition--in that order. I wasn't buying it, not one single bit. Eventually, after a bunch of back-and-forths, my hair cutter moved off polar opposite. We agreed to face the transition of brown to silver with flexibility and with the heart of a Columbus or Champlain. Ball in her court.

We didn't talk about it, but all of a sudden, a few layers were cut into my long hair--for "movement," my hair-cutter's theory being that movement was as good a disguise of transitioning as any.

A few weeks later, more layers, more "movement." I noticed that I could swing my hair to good effect. In motion, there is a beauty lacking in the static. I felt like a well-groomed collie. Silver on top, brown at the tips. I was surprised. My hair cutter smirked, like she had known the answer all along.

This, the woman who was one step short of draping me in a burka, to protect the eyes of society from poor, growing-out-of-hair-dye me.

Upon reflection, I realize that from the scarf to  the scissor artistry, this is a lesson in how we grow.

Suppose I had caved to the pressure of the scarf? Suppose my hair cutter had stuck to her preconceptions?

When we rise to challenges, we find stuff that we didn't even know we had. My hair cutter lifted her scissors in honor of the challenge. I rose to the challenge of letting her rise to the challenge.

In the continuum of life and experience, I realize that what bothers me when reading about other scissoring endeavors, such as "collage made easy," and that there are "no mistakes in collage," and that collage is a good way to "use up your leftovers," is the lack of progress upward.  

The easy way out would have put me in a scarf, or a buzz cut, or even more hair dye.

Why push for that when the options are so much more expansive?

As always, thanks for listening.