My stylist has an archive of her masterpieces, here’s one example. Today, since I was headed out, she tells me “I will get you ready, so you look stylish.” In other words, she won’t let me dart out without a thought to my hair and with a mere rubber band pulling back my neglected strands. It’s the last thing I put my efforts into, it always was for me. She won’t have it, even if it’s a trip to the supermarket. She’s good at it because she’s at it daily. As she attends to my coif, I go deep within, growing more conscious of deep diaphragmatic breathing while I attempt to lessen the tension in my fascia. It’s decades in the making and getting it to relax is taking time, lots of it, along with lots of deep breaths and even more love to heal and grow. What makes this so rich is how she longs to play with my hair just as much as the winds do. Today this is what I got, a precise part down the middle and brushed until soft and flowy. No twists, no clips or barrettes. This spiritual space suit of mine is wearing thin (maybe it’s the part, the usual one on the side softens the face) but what a miracle that not only I am here but that she chose me to take this chance to grow, to love and to create life together. Here is where we unplug, deprogram and give our souls the silence it needs. Here in the arms of trees that not only show me the clarification and purpose of this dream but grant me the wisdom to know that I am strong, I am steadfast and I am protected, even if it’s to head down the aisles of the supermarket not looking like a bandit.