Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Appearance of Silver Hairs

Its shiny and wayward and doesn’t fit into the style I chose, but I love them. I love each one. They can be a symbol of wisdom, of experience, of life.

When I take a positive note to something that has a modern reputation as being a negative, like grey hairs, I think of Nickos and Shirley Valentine and his rapturous description of her birth marks.
So maybe you don’t believe me, but it gets me to penetrate your mind with a new idea of what is. Then perhaps, after accepting that ideas come and go, we can allow what is, without an opinion and without insistence. Insistence seems to always want to sell something, and at this stage, I’m no different.

I’m selling positivity.

I want us to question what the media tells us is negative. If everyone is afraid of grey hair, then they will dye it, and money is exchanged for your fears.

If people embrace the silver strands, standing independently and fiercely upon our heads, we just smile to our mirror, instead of peer and squint and complain internally every morning.

Where’s the good in that?

Silver strands of my life
Breaking into my phantom youth.
Be, I am, and smile at their insistent direction.
Resistant they are, and full of self importance.
Silver strands of my youth
Coming to remind me, of me.

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