hair-brained mindlessness

So, this is an abbreviated post for this morning. Feel free to send flowers, money, cards of various condolence, cool photos of cows.

Monday early afternoon, working with the fact that my hair had grown longer than usual – think Scruffy the cat – I charged the trimmer and took out the numbers 7,4, and3 attachments and energized the trimmer and began trimming away when, perhaps five seconds later, I realized I’d neglected to attach the number seven attachment. Yes, there in the mirror, a far out, punk rocking, zombie from another world, the beginning of a Zen hermit wandering through mountains and hills shaved head hipster stared back, not so cool for school after all.

Perhaps 30 seconds of wild physical thrashing and dancing and countless curse words later – big, big, big, big sigh – I shaved all the rest of it off. Then I called work and asked if I could wear a hat here on out. Yes. Then I visualized a hat on at my Tuesday evening koan group tonight, Zen monk wannabe, hopefully with nothing to say. Seriously, vow of silence.

I’ve been including photos lots here from a mountain bench lately, devoted to practicing show don’t tell. This time it’s just words.

Flowers would be nice.