FEAR AND LETTING GO

Some years ago, while on vacation with my husband in Key West, I had an amazing experience with fear and letting go.  We were there to celebrate my college graduation after many years of school – I was 46 when I graduated. 

I fell in love with Key West.  It is loose, free and beautiful.  I can’t tell you how many people we spoke with who said they went for vacation and never left.  Some left big careers behind while others just dropped out to pursue a beach bum lifestyle.  One man told us that he literally did not go back to pack up his life in New York.  He had everything shipped and never looked back.  We met many homeless people - some by choice, and those that chose to live on the fringe; simple and uncomplicated.  All in all, most seemed content. It’s a different vibe altogether; one of nature, art, freedom, ease, bliss and relaxation. At least on the surface.

Anyway, Tim and I had a number of different things we wanted to do and explore in addition to beaches, bars and shops.  For example, I wanted to visit the Hemingway house and he wanted to rent scooters to tour the island (we had a rental car).  I wanted to snorkel in the ocean and he wanted to take a ride in an open cockpit biplane.

We’ve snorkeled before, in a beautiful lagoon in Xel Ha Mexico.  We loved it.  But Tim didn’t relish the idea of snorkeling in the ocean by a reef…sharks and all.  In fact, he didn’t “think it was wise.”  He did, however, think flying around over the ocean and island in a tiny biplane with an open cockpit that seats 3 people, one being the pilot - a stunt pilot no less, was a super fun idea. I, on the other hand, not so much.  But we struck a deal:  Tim would snorkel with me in the ocean and I would fly in the open cockpit biplane with him. 

The snorkeling trip didn’t work out so well.  The ocean was rough that day so the boat captain would not go out to the reef as planned.  He took us out to an area that he deemed safe and we snorkeled.  But there was no coral reef, no beautiful fish - just lots of seaweed and waves.  I was disappointed to say the least.  

The next day was our biplane trip.  I cannot tell you how frightened I was to go up in that plane.  I was imagining all sorts of terrible things happening.  As we drove to the airfield I could feel terror building inside and for once in my life I was speechless.  I really wanted to back out.  We arrived at the airfield office, paid for our trip and waited for the pilot.  Tim was in seventh heaven looking at the pictures on the wall of the plane and talking about the flight.  I was hoping our family would put together a tasteful but not too expensive funeral for us.  

Then something peculiar happened.  The pilot arrived and took us out to the plane.  As he helped us get strapped in – Tim and I in the front and he in the back with the control panel, I relaxed…completely.  All of the tension in my body melted and my mind emptied.  I think at that moment I realized that whatever happened was out of my control at that point so I let go.  It doesn’t sound like much but it is a moment in time that I’ll never forget.  I surrendered my fears completely.   That flight was spectacular.  We flew for about 45 minutes, soaring above Key West and the Atlantic / Gulf of Mexico.  The pilot was a famous stunt pilot and we swirled and dipped low over the coral reef where I’d hoped to snorkel (he pointed out nurse sharks swimming in the area).  And there was NO FEAR.  It was one of the most wonderful and freeing experiences I’ve had.

I have never forgotten that experience and have had it again on smaller scales occasionally.  When I’m afraid, I go back to that moment of surrender in the biplane at Key West.  And I remind myself that control is just an illusion anyway.  It’s so much better just to let go and enjoy the ride.  

ALMOST CUT MY HAIR

There’s this thing I do.  I do it when I’m stressed or when I feel crappy about myself.  Sometimes I do it when life seems unmanageable.  I used to do it when I had PMS.  I don’t do it every day – I’d be bald.  But it happens.  It’s almost always a symptom of something out of kilter in my universe.  

I cut my hair. What I know about cutting hair you could stick in your eye.  I can say with certainty that scissors are involved. 

I started snipping my hair as a teenager.  I was in the early stages of flying my freak flag and gave my crowning glory a Rod Stewart shag (his Small Faces – pre lounge lizard days), short and spiked on the top and long on the sides and bottom - an abstract not quite mullet, done entirely  by yours truly.  Awesome!  But not.  I have curly hair which, at that time, was the bane of my 16 year old existence, and I had no blow dryer in those days.  So I bought a product called Dippety Do to smear on the spikes, then pinned them down until they dried so they would stand up all nice and straight and spiky as opposed to the poodle look that ensued without it.

I don’t have any pictures of that style, THANK GOD!  Because I remember it and although to my demented teenage mind it looked pretty cool, I’m sure adults looking at it felt much like I do these days when seeing young dudes with their pants hanging down past their crotch displaying their boxers and walking like there’s a stick up their ass.  

For sure, I know my mom hated it….she didn’t hesitate to let me know.  But no mind... she hated other cool stuff too, like my bell bottom hip hugger jeans that were intentionally so long they dragged on the ground becoming  ripped, dirty and frayed along the bottom (that's what made them cool).  Or, the seal skin coat I purchased at a thrift shop that had bald patches all over it.  These were, in my eyes, the bomb!

Control

When you’re a teenager, and starting to find out who you are, everything revolves around controlling your image – even if you don’t know what that image is yet.  And it’s hard to do because you’re kind of dumb and naïve and in most cases, the best you can hope for is to navigate the shark tank and keep your legs.  Because it is truly a jungle out there for that age group. 

The truth is that while I cut my hair as a teenager for reasons that are very different from why I do so today, the common denominator is the same.  It’s all about control.  Today, the image and angst of my teen years is replaced with feelings about my self-image and self-worth.  It’s about disappointment and the presentiment that time and opportunity are somehow slipping through my fingers and I can’t grasp them.  So, I feel helpless and out of control.  I look in the mirror and I don’t like what I see in that moment so I grab the scissors and snip a little here and a little there.  And for a few minutes I feel that some little part of my life is being steered by me, again – for better or worse.  

I hadn't done any impulsive hair cutting in quite some time - a few years actually.  But in the last few months I've gone through a rough patch and lopped off actual inches - a few times.  Thankfully, curly hair has turned out to be my friend.  Turns out that it can cover a multitude of hair cutting sins.

I understand that control is mostly an illusion and that how we respond to challenges and obstacles in our days make all the difference in our outlook. This is something I know from years of experience.  Yet now and then, in weak moments,I let go of letting go, instead reacting in ways that bring no benefit and sometimes, even more chaos.  Fortunately, it's only hair.  Mine grows fast. 

I recently read on Zenhabits, a blog that I like, “When we are in the midst of chaos, let go of the need to control it. Be awash in it, experience it in that moment, try not to control the outcome but deal with the flow as it comes.”  ~Leo Babuta.  That makes sense to me.