Getting
civilized. Scary. To me it means conforming to the masses - to their views of
'normalcy,' loose ends neatly tucked into place,
straight jacketed with a face to put on every time you walk out of your
personal space to face the world. After a thrilling, eye-opening,
freshen-my-worldview tonsure experience, I have hair growing that needs to be
trimmed and made to look 'acceptable.' Gone is the wash-wipe-readytogo ease. In
comes mirrors, comb, oilcontrolling shampoo and barbers, and 'the style that
best suits me with the hair I have.' Civil-ization. Now I have a hairclip to deal
with the elongated hair which I could just as easily snip off with my home scissors to my fancy to
make it be manageable, if not for the fear of 'looking' mousy. I could so easily
tonsure again. I am this close to doing it.
It has been 9 months since I did it but it is so fresh in my memory. How
was it when tonsured? Nude. I thought it was me feeling vulnerable and naked, a
free target for any one and everyone to stare and think aloud and be shocked
at, but not surprisingly it is the onlookers who were naked. Unguarded in
facing unfamiliarity, not understanding 'why' and perhaps faced with their own
fears of being exposed mirrored in my 'exposure.' It did feel like I was
skinned, leaving my flesh beneath exposed for the unvoiced questions but naked
expressions in their eyes. Everything came into the expression in their eyes,
differed from person to person but the range is not the everyday questions, or
perhaps it was just so deeper that they took on a quality new of their own.
Gender. Nationality. Belief. Purpose. Sexuality. Friendship. Fellow human
being. Belongingness. Human. Commercial value. Worthy of association. The
separatedness/aloneness in being human was pretty stark in their alone,
vulnerable, scared, confused looks when they thought no one was looking but me
- the unfamiliar entity with whom they could unwittingly drop their guards and
be their vulnerable self for just that little while. I felt sad that my hair
was growing in fast and yet wished for it to grow fast for fear of becoming a
permanent outsider. The pull to 'belong,' to not be the 'odd one out' and thus
become 'visible' is scary and hence seek the comfort of being 'invisible' in
the crowd, in belonging, and then again to be 'unique' and to 'stand out in the
crowd' and be 'famous.' guess the difference is in 'acceptable' fame, enviable
fame, shining star, not vulnerable and exposed. It perhaps scratched them where
they dint want to but I would do it again for it peeled away a layer of
deadness (dead skin?) and freshened something more important, more essential at
my core than any training could have accomplished. I could see the condition of
being human from the underbelly and hence a tiny peek into what it means to be
human.
I am going to do it again. I just want to get 'civilized' again enough to get the kick out of tonsuring again, so now it is clips and comb ...and perhaps I will get some red streaks for a change!
