Written January 3rd 2021:
Yesterday may have been one of the most important days of my life. It’s the day I did something I had feared doing for 27 years. To the outside world, it may not seem like a big deal. But to me, it is everything.
One of my greatest longings in life has been a desire for freedom.
Freedom from the sometimes excruciating pain I felt inside. A pain that drove me to an eating disorder in my teens, sank me into serious bouts of depression, drove me to an almost ever-present state of anxious worry for much of my life, and had me engage in years of overwork and various forms of what I have come to realize was self abuse.
This pain began when I was very, very young.
It began with child sexual abuse that started early and lasted until I was 8 years old. It continued through a punitive education that included harsh discipline and physical punishment. It escalated with the trauma of leaving my home in India and moving to the United States, a country where I did not know the language or culture and felt like an outsider. It calcified in my psyche and body with seeing the bruises on my mother’s body after being hit by my father.
Trauma does crazy things to one’s body, mind, heart, spirit, and soul.
It has us in constant states of high alert and hyper vigilance, which just feel normal. It has us feeling somehow bad, damaged, broken, dirty. It shatters any sense of self-worth and has us question our right to even exist. It fills us with unconscious fear and dread, so even when things are going great, a part of us is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It manifests as physical ailments, such as digestive disorders and cardiovascular problems.
I, of course, did not have an intellectual understanding of the impacts of trauma when I was young, but as far back as I can remember, I longed for freedom and escape from my felt experiences of it.
As a teen, I fantasized about running away from home. I escaped into daytime soap operas and soap opera style romance novels. I contemplated suicide. At times, I ate to the point of feeling sick to my stomach. At others, in an attempt to gain some sense of control, I overexercised and deprived myself of food to the point of anorexia.
I went away to college and began being exposed to new ideas, a diversity of people, and a sense of boldness and possibility I had not experienced in my small, sheltered life. There was a girl in my freshman class who had a shaved head, and she seemed to carry herself with so much confidence and power.
I wanted that confidence and power…and I longed to do something wild and brave and freeing.
Some part of me became fascinated with the idea of cutting off my hair and shaving my head. I took a class on Buddhism and started noticing Buddhist monks and nuns on campus. I felt drawn to their Zen vibe of peace and simplicity. That life of wearing simple robes and spending time in quiet contemplation seemed like such a welcome solace from the craziness of my internal and external worlds.
I seriously longed to shave my head. I longed for the freedom, escape, simplicity, boldness, and personal power it represented.
But I was too afraid. I fantasized about it…had visions of a happy, healthy, free, peaceful being with a shaved head looking towards me from a beautiful meadow…but it stayed in the realm of fantasy.
I ignored my longing for a number of reasons: 1) I knew it would upset my parents who are very conservative and see long hair as a symbol of their religious faith. 2) I was terrified that I would feel ugly and exposed with no hair. 3) I wasn’t ready to make such a bold statement to the world or myself.
Over the 27 years that have passed, the thought has come to mind multiple times, but I continued to shy from any serious consideration of it for some combination of the original reasons.
But, yesterday, after 27 years of nursing that longing, I did it! The idea came to me as I was looking at myself in the mirror late Saturday afternoon. I had been needing a haircut for a while and had missed the opportunity to go to a salon when things opened during the pandemic.
Because hair salons were once again closed, I contemplated cutting off several inches myself but thought that was crazy and it would be better to wait a while or find a stylist who might see me outdoors.
As I was considering my options, the long-buried idea of chopping off my hair popped into my head again. This time, I didn’t push it aside. It was a time of transition for me and the world. We had just said goodbye to 2020, and I, like many others, felt ready for a big reset.
I reached out to a couple of soul sisters who had offered to come to the sanctuary to help and support me during this time of transition. I shared the idea with them, and everything fell into place.
The next morning, we were gathered in the new, ceremonial yurt and we had a ceremonial shaving of my head. It included music, prayer, a beautiful altar of sacred items, a labyrinth walk. And it was followed by a sacred release and cleansing in the ocean.
This beautiful, sacred, impromptu personal ceremony proved to be more healing and powerful than I could possibly have imagined. It created an opportunity for me to do a big release of an old pattern of shame and fear and allowed me to experience a sort of rebirth and to come home to my self.