Since I dyed my hair purple (or more precisely ‘Ultra Violet’ as the box states) I’ve grown to love all the varied reactions I get from people. It’s an amazing feeling to feel like you’re being perceived by others how you want to be perceived, like they can really see the you that’s on the inside instead of what we’re often stuck with on the outside.

That in itself is a long topic so I’ll move on to my point before this post turns into a twenty page tirade though those are really quite fun as well.

Sometimes people walk up to me and ask me how I got my hair such a vibrant color, others ask me why on earth I’d do something like that to myself, and others still decide to comment on the actual colors I’m displaying since I’ve recently picked up a habit of wearing my bright lime green hoodie because of the way it offsets the color in my hair. Some people love the colors I choose and how wacky and far from the norm they seem. Some people think I should, and I quote, ‘grow up’ and how could my husband stand to be seen with me and other such nonsense. By the way, my husband absolutely loves my hair. He’s happy if I’m happy and so long as I’m not spending gregarious amounts of cash on things to alter the surface when everything beneath it is plenty beautiful in his opinion. *grins cutely*

Anyways, yesterday my Hubby, my sis (who is sporting neon or as the box says ‘Shocking Blue’ hair) and I went grocery shopping because I’ve recently learned how to make all kinds of new things thanks to a weekend at my adoptive mom’s house. The moment we walked in Hunny saw a lady he knew from his old job and they quickly fell into a conversation about some issues that were still going on. Kei and I just stood around, observing and listening like we usually do when we don’t have a whole lot to add to a conversation or we’re just as content listening.

Seconds later this elder woman, I haven’t the heart to call her elderly or old in any sense of the word for her personality, walked up to us with a huge grin on her face and said “I love your hair!” We smiled and thanked her as she walked past thinking that was the end of that.

It wasn’t.

She came back with one of her friends and started asking us how we got our hair the color it was, what dye we used, what others colors we’d gone, and where the dye could be picked up. She wanted to know if we used more than one color on my sis cause she has these really nice highlights and what reactions we generally got from people. She was so vibrant and alive about it.

As she was leaving she said “You gotta be brave and stand out from the crowd.” With that she raised her fist in the air and proclaimed “Live free.” and then left just as suddenly as she’d shown up. Kei and I looked at each other in a moment of silence that followed after our raucous agreement and we broke down into giggles. We were always talking about th kinds of old ladies we wanted to be when we get to be that age and here this awesome woman had come along and proven just what a reality that would be. :D It was awesome.

You’re only as old as you act.

You’re only as beautiful as you think you are.

And people will only ever know you, or really want to know you, if you stand up in one sense or another and say “Here I am. This is me. Don’t like it? Deal with it.” As the Tao says, there is a time to be flexible as the river and a time to be as strong as bamboo- bend when you gotta but never break.

Hair dye, tattoos, and piercings- oh my!

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These words/actions are often grouped together for one reason or another though they are three very different things. Some people think ‘punk’, others ‘teenager’ or ‘immature’. Another group of people think ‘rebel’, ‘wannabe’, or ‘trying to be cool.’ To put it simply the art of body decoration brings out all kinds of different thoughts and feelings though they are usually on one side of the fence or the other. Either it’s a good idea or a bad idea. Either you’re doing it to fit in or break out. Either you’re too young or too old.

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Whatever.

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I have another thought on the matter that I don’t really hear too often but let me back up and explain why I’m even writing about this in the first place. Tattoos have always fascinated me but you can never change them and I don’t do needles- ever. Piercings occasionally make my brain turn but I just don’t do pain- that and I’m notorious for losing jewelry or goodness forbid getting it caught on something. *winces*

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Hair dye on the other hand… In today’s world with the variety of chemical combination your hair can be whatever color(s) you want provided you’re willing to sit through and/or pay for the process. Yes, you can severely damage your hair but 1. it doesnt hurt (unless you’ve done something seriously wrong), 2. shaving your head is easy, and 3. if you’re smart enough to wait at least two or three months before mutilating your hair again you have nothing to worry about.

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Why is this important? Because my hair is now purple.

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Why would I do something like this?

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For spiritual reasons.

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You read that right. I have dyed my hair purple for spiritual reasons. Actually, I went in and had it done at a salon because I’ve never gone a strange color before and I wanted it to look nice especially since I have a job to maintain. Back to the point though, what does this have to do with my spirituality?

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Everything.

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Or it seems like it lately. Let me start from a few paces back. See, I have a lot of health problems. I always have and chances are I always will. It’s just part of my life. Scoliosis, stomach ulcers, asthma (which somehow ties in with the ulcers), low blood sugar, noticeably lazy eye, slight limp, and a tooth that sticks out of my mouth no matter how small smile is. Oh, and let’s not forget periodic but chronic nose bleeds. There is always something wrong with me but I’ve never paid it too much mind before.

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A few years ago there was so much going on and wrong in my life that my health really wasn’t all that… well, it could have been worse. As the years went by and everything has started to come together nicely I’ve had a chance to see how lucky I really am that it ‘isn’t’ worse and I’ve always been very thankful. It’s just.. that these last few months I’ve been complaining more and more about what’s ‘wrong with me’ despite how happy I am and how wonderful my life really is. Yeah, there are still problems but that just makes every other happy moment more beautiful but I’m SO sick of being SICK!

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I digress- normally I’d find a way to get over this either through writing or meditation or talking to that wonderful husband of mine but nothing has really been working. It doesn’t help that more and more often of late I’ve had to deal with people at work blatantly pointing out my flaws. What with my back and hip I can’t carry certain things, with the asthma I can’t run very fast or work around certain cleaners, with my stomach I can’t eat an array of things (I work in a restaurant) which leads to the next series of comments on my weight. All my life people have been saying I’m far too skinny. Either they playfully say they hate me for it, that I’m so lucky, or they ask me if I have anorexia.

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I’m not skinny because I don’t eat, I eat all the time, it runs in my family damn it!

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Back to the point. Again.

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I say spirituality instead of religion for a variety of reasons that I’m not going to go into right now, one of the reasons though is because there is no name for what I am but if someone had to call me something or suggest I follow one philosophy over another it would be Taoism.

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The main concept of Taoism is to just be. If you’re not happy with something then you need to do something about it, complaining does nothing. Either you do, or you do not. There is no halfway. I’ve been complaining this whole time, not about the health problems themselves but about the fact that it’s often what people see me for.

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I’ve never been a vain creature, I didn’t even wear makeup at my own wedding but all these people are starting to make me feel uncomfortable in my own body. They have no right to do that and so I’ve made a decision. I’ve taken control of the situation, gone out and I have done what I felt I needed to do to feel good in this body of mine again. It may only be a shell to house the soft gooey center known as me but it bruises easily so I need to take care that I’m happy with my body so it might be protected from the elements.

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If I’m not happy with my body, a part of myself, then I’m not being me. If I’m not being me then I’m not following my spirituality and that can’t be allowed. So, I went and had my hair dyed purple. How does that fit into everything? Many ways that may only make sense to me, but two more than anything.

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For starters, when I enter a room full of people and they look up and I think about what the first thing they see when they see me is- I think purple hair. I don’t wonder if they see my pale skin or the way I walk or even my tooth when I talk because you might not be able to tell in the picture but my purple is quite neon in normal light. I still shock myself when I walk into the restroom and see my hair out the corner of my eye in the mirror. Sure, they might still see the things that are wrong with me but I no longer feel like that’s their main focus and for me that’s an important thing. Vain I am not, self conscious… very.

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The second reason is slightly more subtle and might be one of those aforementioned things only I can understand. See, I have no control over all these other things that are wrong with my body. I can’t do a single thing about them. I’ve gone to doctors (rarely, but I do) and I follow their instructions but in the end in most cases that’s all that can be done. I can’t change the fact that people are always commenting about what they perceive and I can’t really change what they perceive as far as the grand scale of things goes. I have no control over anything.

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As some of you know I was in a car accident recently, let me tell you- I felt like my body had turned traitor against me. It seemed like everything was malfunctioning at once and there was nothing I could do about it. I went to the emergency room and it made it even more obvious that there was nothing I could do about it. In the past I accepted this, it was the way it was but now… it’s becoming part of my everyday life more and more and shoved in my face more and more.

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I had no control.

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I decided to get my hair dyed. I decided to go some outlandish color. I decided where and when I was going to get it done. I decided not to care when one of my friends dissed it. I decided not to care if people started to stare at me even more despite my shy nature.

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I decided. I gave myself control.

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By making myself happy I’m being me and that’s what matters. :) I think I had another point to make but this post has turned out slightly longer than anticipated and once more I’m the only one still awake in my household. Love and peace to all of you.