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So, for the past couple of months I have been worrying about my hair turning grey. This is because, at age 23, I am indeed going grey. I always figured I had my mother’s hair–she’s only started to turn grey in the past few years–but it appears that I’m going to follow my dad on this one.
It’s not too noticeable as yet–just a few grey hairs mixed in with the brown–but what started as one grey hair six months ago is now probably a dozen. Small changes, but I know what’s happening.
I’ve decided not to dye it. I decided this back when I thought I had another twenty years of brunettedom, but I think I’m going to stick with that decision. I don’t like the fact that it’s basically expected of women to dye their hair well into their 60s or even 70s. I don’t like that it’s impossible to tell anyone’s age anymore. I don’t like the near-deification of youth in our culture, and I don’t want to buy into it. (Also, there’s no way I could remember/afford to have it touched up often enough not to get those skunk stripes. And those are no good.) And yet…I don’t WANT to go grey! I LIKE my brown curly hair! Even when I whine about it, I still am quite fond of it! I don’t want to lose it yet! And I don’t want people thinking that I am old in my 20s! My vanity and my better self have been duking it out, and it’s unclear which will win.
Today I was fixing my hair before going to class, and I pulled out a hair that had fallen out and gotten caught in the curls. It was brown and curly on the bottom half, and silver and straight on the half closest to the scalp. Welcome to my future, I guess?
The middle school chaplain, who gave our chapel talk today, discussed balance. She advised the students to figure out what was important and focus on that, and to leave the unessential strewn by the wayside. Now, when I listen to sermons (of whatever kind), I generally find myself conducting a discussion with the speaker in my head, and today was no exception.
Yes, I think we can all agree that Britney Spears’ underwear is an instance of the “unessential” things which deserve to be left behind. On the other hand, I find it considerably more difficult to discern what is unessential in my life than one might think would be the case.
Which is most essential: a bed to sleep in; clothes to wear to work; a paid-off credit card; tea from Starbucks in the morning?
Which is most essential: quality time with my parents and siblings; quality time with my boyfriend; quality time with my friends; quality time with my students?
Which is most essential: sufficient sleep; sufficient preparation for class; sufficient time spent alone; sufficient time spent with others?
I don’t mean to whine. I have more control over my life than I ever have before, so in some sense I have it easier than most of my students probably do. But how do I go about making those choices? How do I choose between what is necessary and what is necessary? How do I build enough of the “unnecessary” things–tea, knitting, reading, relaxation–into my life that I don’t feel as though I’m constantly living on the hard and bitter edge of necessity? And if I can’t seem to figure these things out, how will my students?
