Archive | May, 2009

Its gone

30 May

I swear I won’t have too many more posts about my hair…drum-roll please…. I cut it off last night! Yep, I had planned to wait until I got paid and had some extra cash so I could go to get it colored right away but last night I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I said screw it, got the Spousal Unit’s shears and just took my locs off.

So how do I feel? A lot better than I expected to be honest, yes I need to get my hair shaped up but at the moment I have no regrets. As a few friends commented, I still have a fair chuck of hair left on my head. (I really did have a fro underneath my locs) since as the Spousal Unit noted I don’t even have a TWA at this point. (TWA= tiny weeny afro)

As I cut each one off, I felt a certain sense of lightness and actually woke up without the customary headache, damn, my locs were heavy. So where do I go from here? For the next few days I will just rock it in its crazy state and then go see who can shape me up. We do actually have a Black barber locally who cuts elder boy’s hair when he is home so I do have a place to go, though there is a Black female stylist around who while I may not have entrusted my locs to her will do for cleaning me up.

I suppose at a later date, I will write about the spiritual side of letting go of my locks though at the moment, lighter really is the best word to describe how I am feeling.  I had no idea just how weighed down I had been feeling but right now its clear that I was weighed down.

Anyway have a happy weekend!

Leaning towards….

28 May

Recently I wrote about my hair woes, and actually got a lot of feedback. To recap, I have dreadlocks aka locs. I have been growing my much beloved locs for 5 years now, but we have reached the point where my babies are looking a tad unkempt. In good financial times, I would head to Brooklyn to visit a woman I am told could definitely get my hair back in order since living in Maine, I lack access to folks who know what to do with natural unprocessed hair.

As I admitted in my other posts about my hair, my locs are not just hair. They were started as direct result of my Mom’s untimely death 5 years ago, its something I had thought about for years but her death and the realization that life is short prompted me to just do it. (sorry Nike, I just had to use your slogan)

I admit over the years the journey that I have been on emotionally and spiritually has been reflected in my my locs and my relationship to them. I love em but recently after the posts I did, I have started to feel as if I could sense my Mom’s presence (I swear I am not going crazy) and each time its happened, I could almost hear her voice telling me its time to get rid of them. Now my Mom was always open to my natural hair but she was also a pretty snazzy dresser and quite into couture, she always looked amazing. No, the simple truth is if she were here she would say get rid of em and at least start all over again because right now, I simply look raggedy about the head.

The first time I had that realization about a week ago, I shook it off but its continued to haunt me. Yet I must admit like many women I have fell into the length trap, my hair is quite long and for all the bitching I do about my hair its been a nice ride as a long haired woman. In some ways I get amused because I often get the question even living in Maine “Is that really all my hair?” Sometimes I get amused and sometimes I get pissed since at times I wonder is it because there is the perception that Black women don’t have long hair. So on some level I know that fuels my desire to keep the length despite the fact my hair is not as healthy as it could be.

However as someone who has always embraced change when its put in my face, yesterday I had an ephiphany about how freeing it would be to just cut my hair off and for once fear was not in my heart as I thought about it. I was talking to an acquaintance of mine, a white man who is a stylist and colorist for Aveda who told me flat out that he thought I would look a lot better with a short do that he would be happy to color for me. Can I say thoughts of shades of red are dancing in my head. Along with thoughts of how nice 3-4 inches would feel on my head…can we say the ultimate in wash and go.

I tried this weekend to retwist the new growth that had caused me to have a afro in the midst of my locs and let me just say…um NO. It did not come out well and my arms were killing me when I was done.

Letting go sometimes is hard but I am starting to embrace the idea that change is in the air and that this may be the change I need to make. The past 5 years have been the hardest I have ever gone through and lately I feel weighed down by so much in my life, even my hair. I need to be lighter in my journey. Don’t get me wrong I love dreads but wonder if I should restart this journey at a different stage in my life, not one born out of pain and grief.

So guess you can say I am leaning towards making the big chop though I have decided to sit on this for 30 days just to be sure. After all if I cut it off too soon its not as if I can just stick it back on my head.

What were you thinking?

27 May

I am not a big tv watcher, truthfully I have never been a big tv watcher. Last regular show I had to watch is My Name is Earl and that was the first season when I was pregnant with the girl child. Maybe its because growing up we only had one tv and my folks didn’t get cable until I was married and out of the house and pregnant with elder boy.

Now this does not mean I don’t ever watch tv, but tv is generally what I do when I have a reason to be in bed and with a small kid there is very little free time to lounge in bed and watch tv. However last night I was in bed and didn’t feel like sleeping so I ended up catching the first few minutes of the latest season of Jon and Kate plus 8. Why???? Just like when I started catching some of the episodes of the Housewives of Atlanta a few months ago when I was in bed one weekend with a stomach bug…all I can say is why?

Clearly reality tv is here to stay, there must be something about watching others go insane and display behavior that clearly should be private that brings out the voyeur in us all. That said, while I am not a big tv watcher I have generally heard of most shows and had heard about Jon and Kate plus 8, I even have caught a few minutes of some their other seasons. My general opinion being that Kate seemed sort of overbearing and I am glad she is not my partner.

Now of course I have heard about Jon’s supposed indiscretion and clearly in the few minutes that I saw last night, that seemed to overshadow everything, whether he did or didn’t is no concern of mine. However what stood out for me was Jon and Kate’s bitching about the paparazzi and the general feeling that they have no privacy anymore.

Um….you sign a contract to let cameras follow you and your kids around and essentially allow “us” in and in return you get enough cash to support your brood? I don’t know but it would seem to me that if I agreed to take part in such a operation that I might expect that no part of my life would be private, needless to say I am a private person so I would never agree to such a thing.

Did they not realize that alll aspects of their life would be an open book? Did Jon not realize when he did whatever he was doing with a woman that was not his wife, that it might get out? Sorry, but I am not feeling sad for Jon and Kate. I do however feel sad for their kids who must have even the most mundane parts of their lives put on display for public consumption.

I can only imagine that raising 8 kids is hella costly…shit, the two I have cost me an arm and a leg. Yet in order to have access to help and a lovely house, Jon and Kate knew the score and really should have thought about it before the agreed to this show. If its really an issue, maybe they should break the contract and work on healing their family instead of broadcasting their woes for all to see and then bitching because the paparazzi is following them around.  I suspect if they really want to heal and repair their relationship, they might need to turn the cameras off.

Needless to say Jon and Kate…what ever were you thinking?

Stop playing with us

26 May

Am I the only one who hears the news reports about the economy and thinks, quit bullshitting us? Seriously, just this weekend, I was hearing how the “experts” think more people will get out and travel this summer…after all gas prices are cheaper. Gee, its jumped like crazy in the past few weeks to a lovely $2.40 a gallon but hey its not $4 a gallon, so therefore its cheap. Yes, gas is cheaper than it was last year but lets be honest its not like gas is 75 cents a gallon or some ridiculous price. I suspect more people will be on the road but maybe its because after months of living close to the bone, they just feel the need to cut loose for a moment before they go insane. Its the type of logic that a dieter uses after weeks of being good and following the diet and they just need to take a day or two off.

Then there is the report I just read a few minutess ago, that consumer confidence is up, folks are starting to shop more. That might be true but I suspect the fact that good weather is here and again folks are cutting loose for a moment, considering that unemployment is still rising and in some states and cities its already in the double digits, I doubt the recession is over.

On the other hand its easy to spin shit and make us think things are getting better. Funny thing is I know very few people who are not feeling the impact of this economy in one way or the other. I was just having lunch with a fellow non-profit consultant who is thinking of looking for a regular gig since her work load has dropped…I know that feeling all too well as the past 6 months has seen all my work dry up and potential new clients can’t afford my rates which are reasonable.

Too many people are struggling, over the weekend the NY Times reported that the newest wave in foreclosures are not folks who got the the sub-prime create a loan with shaky credit but folks who used to have good credit and jobs. Folks who lost a job and realized they couldn’t find a new one that paid at the rate they used to make, folks who have exhausted all their resources and when it came down to putting food in their bellies, and keepsake the phone and lights on (useful things to have when looking for a gig) versus paying the mortgage and starving, they took option A.

After all it takes quite a while to actually be foreclosed on or evicted from your dwelling so you play that mental fuck fuck game thinking your ship is going to come through soon, only it doesn’t and the next thing you know, you are the face of poverty. The new face of poverty or the working class in America is someone who played by the rules…someone who got that degree, figured they work themselves up from the from being a desk jockey in a cubicle to actually getting an office with a door. Only they changed up the rules and there are a whole lot of Americans with fancy degrees who are feeling they were sold a bum deal.

If I sound a tad bitter today its because in some ways this post is about my life and while thankfully as long as I pay the taxes on my house I will always have a place to rest my head, I know for many others that is not the case. Yet at the same time as I think about my rather large student loan debt and those lovely degrees I possess and how they have not translated to financial stability, I get a tad pissed. Truth is my life in many ways was a lot simpler and stabler when I was a simple working person with no degree. See, I could off less without Sallie Mae wanting her money back. I gotta earn more because I have more expenses and even with bankruptcy Miss Mae still gets her money.

No, I get mad these days when I think of how the powers to be have manipulated us in the past (college as a surefire way to economic stability for one) and continue to manipulate us (things are getting better..oh really? For whom?)

So my mood will pass, it always does but lets be aware of how the powers to be and media try to sucker us with their spin…Happy Tuesday!

Yeah, he is too old

22 May

I remember when my son whom I generally call elder child was a young boy, I got him potty trained at 2.75. No, that is not an exaggeration, remember though he is almost 18 so back then kids got potty trained earlier than they do know. There was also the fact that I landed a stable job and had to put him in a daycare that required he be potty trained, so my Granny and I got him trained in a week with some help from others.

So despite being potty trained before 3, of course elder child went with me to the restroom when he was a wee lad. That was until he turned about 4 and my father, mentioned that he was getting rather big to be coming with me to the ladies room, so I started letting him go into the men’s room by himself. I stayed right next to the door, made him yell out when he got to his stall. I admit it was nerve wracking but at that point I was a single Mama and I leaned on my own parents for guidance. Obviously, the boy survived going to the bathroom alone at age 4 which is good since at age 5.5 he flew alone for the first time to his Dad’s…

The reason I shared this little tale is because somehow in this world of hyper parenting, I have run across Mamas who still are taking 8, 9, and 10 year old boys to the ladies room with them. They do this because they don’t feel comfortable with their sons in a public restroom, they are concerned about predators, pedophiles, and other undesirables that may be hiding in the men’s room.

I gotta be honest and say this is some crazy shit….look, unless a 9 year old boy has special needs he should be able to go to the bathroom, take a piss and get the fuck out. I realize we want to keep out babies childlike and innocent for as long as possible but look we are raising kids. That means we must allow them the chance to grow up. A 9 year old still having to pee in the ladies room is only 7 years away from getting a drivers license and 9 years away from being considered a legal adult. I don’t know but when I look at it that way it makes me think maybe one should start the small stuff first, like letting the kid pee on his own.

Look, the world is a scary place. The first time my kid flew alone was on a court order that if I disobeyed, my ass was going to jail. I was scared shit-less imagining all the scenarios of what could go wrong and you know what? Nothing went wrong. One time we had a flight he was on that had to land someplace else other than the airport I was waiting for him at and as nerve racking as it was he was fine, the flight attendants watched him, fed him and no one harmed him. He was about 7-8 when that happened and merely looked at it as an adventure.

Yes, we want to hold our kids tight but when we hold on too tight that can create problems. By all means be cautious but lets not be crazy. In days not that long ago, an 8-9 year old kid could walk to school alone a mere 6-7 blocks….I know because that kid was me and guess what aside from the occasional stray dog I had to avoid, I turned out fine. Then again I was riding Chicago city buses alone by 10 and that to was fine.

Have a happy Friday!

I will not worry

20 May

A few weeks ago, I took my first yoga class. For years I have been fascinated by the idea of yoga, yet old habits die hard and as a recovering Evangelical Christian, I have been a bit fearful of yoga….looking back my fears were based on ignorance. Fear that my mind would be taken over by impure read um Christian ideology. Truth is my faith is strong and those were silly childish fears but I digress.

No, as someone who gets stressed to the point of anxiety attacks, I realized that with everything going on in my life, that I need an outlet for dealing with stress in a positive manner. A manner that does not result in a need for trips to the ER and a dose of Ativan to calm me down.

So I took that first class, I walked in skeptical but left feeling refreshed. The class I am taking is Ashtanga yoga which is a tad physical but still forces me to focus and not worry. However after the first few classes, I was still too wound up and decided to sign up for a Yoga Nidra class, which has no focus on the physical and is focused strictly on the mental practice of yoga.

Um….why haven’t I done this sooner? Seriously, it was an hour that was so needed. The class is a guided meditation and while it sounds hokey as hell, as of right now it works. As the hour progressed, I focused on my goal which is to not worry. I worry way too much, I wake up at 3 am to worry, go to sleep worrying. Truth is when I am engaged in intimate time with the Spousal Unit, I have a hard time turning my brain off. As you can see, I think way too much. Despite being strong in my faith, my human inclination is not to let go and let God but to pray and worry which really is a bad idea.

During my session as the layers were peeled off mentally, I entered a state where I found myself repeating that I would not worry but my mind started reminding me of my favorite bible passages that speak to not worrying. It was a truly cathartic and relaxing experience. In the midst of what some of my fellow Evangelicals would call an un-Godly experience, I felt God’s presence deeper than I have in a very long time.

Sometimes we all need to let go of the mental baggage we carry and open ourselves up to new experiences, as we might surprise ourselves with the new insight that we glean. As for me, this has been a peaceful week. I still have money woes and other trials going on in my life, but instead of worrying, I instead am choosing to trust that things will work out, that God is in charge and knows what I need.

So if you are a worry wart, I highly recommend taking yoga and specifically yoga nidra if its available to you.

El-Hajj Malik El- Shabazz

19 May

Also known to the world as Malcolm X as well as Malcolm Little. Today is his birthday and though Brother Malcolm passed a few years before I made my entry into this world, I stop today to ponder an amazing man and say Happy Birthday.

I was 17 when I read The Autobiography of Malcolm X, like many others it was a book that had a profound impact on me, I cannot not even put into words how but it did. This book ranks almost up there with the Bible for me as far as life changing books.

Anyway Happy Birthday, and if you have not read this book, get thee a copy like yesterday and if you have read it, now is a great time to reread it in light of how the world has changed. Yet Malcolm remains relevant to us all and not because he was brought to our national conscience by Spike Lee in the late 1980’s early 1990’s through his movies and on t-shirts and caps but because his words and actions left us with truths that are still relevant and inspiring.

Worshipping the White Way

18 May

Lately I have found myself visiting churches as part of my job, we are a faith based organization that gets a fair amount of support from area churches so from time to time I need to go speak at churches. Generally I do my speaking at the beginning of the service but since it would be in poor taste to put the fix in on a congregation and jet out the door, I stay for services. This is where I found myself yesterday, sitting in a service for one of the local Baptist churches.

I have to be honest, I haven’t been to this many new churches since I was hunting for a new church home when I moved to Maine 7 years ago. However all this church visiting reminded me of the differences in how Blacks and Whites worship in this country. Its been said that Sunday morning is still the most segregated hour in America and I believe that to be quite true.

See, 7 years ago when we moved up here I immediately went out in search of a church home, a process that I thought would be rather easy but instead it took 6 years before I finally found a church that I wanted to hang my hat and stay a while.

Now let me start out by saying I was not raised in a traditional Black church, my Dad is a preacher but did not go into ministry until I was almost 18 so where my brother was raised going to church, I was not. Nope, when I was coming up, my mother who was raised by her agnostic father really didn’t care much for church since the only church she ever attended was Catholic church courtesy of her grandmother and that was rather sporadic.  So there was no regular church attendance in my early days though we did occasionally go from time to time, more a function of my Dad’s southern Baptist roots, I suppose.

However my earliest memories of church were that we would attend a few times a year, we would always go to a Black Baptist or Penetecostal style church, I recall the music being amazing but services being long….very long. Long enough that even my father, a man who spent his 20’s and 30’s searching for God would often mutter when is this going to end. It was no coincidence that after my dad went to seminary and eventually got his own church on the southside of Chicago that he ran the service so that it was exactly one hour. He used to joke, that he needed to get home to catch the Sunday football games or whatever sport was playing. I guess those long services grated on his nerves too. Though lets be honest, a 3 hour church service is just too long. I mean when you start hearing the collective rumblings of folks bellies that’s a sign that church is too long and I won’t even get started on the multiple offerings I witnessed in many Black churches. I’m not trying to be bad but I have never met a Black church that didn’t have a building fund. Even my Granny’s church, after they finally built the new church, they were still taking a collection for the building fund.

Now when I found God or rather came to Christ in my early 20’s. I initially attended a non-demominational mixed race church in Chicago where services were not super long but the word was on point. I eventually joined my father’s church where I stayed a member till I moved to Maine.  Having only been a member of two churches prior to my move to Maine and neither of them predominantly white churches, I quickly learned that white folks and black folks worship in very different ways. Look, this is not a slam…at the end of the day the fact that we all love the Lord is what matters but I gotta say worshipping with my white bothers and sisters in Christ has been a very eye opening experience.

First stop on the looking for a church tour involved a Nazarene church, lovely place but they were hardcore against drinking, gambling, basically any type of sin. Um….Jesus drank wine, don’t care what you say but I read that Jesus turned water to wine if he didn’t want folks drinking why was he turning water to wine? So we crossed that church off the list, besides they weren’t all that warm and fuzzy towards me. Guess its one thing to help those poor unfortunate folks of color in far away lands but having one in your midst is something else.

We went to a few other churches, before we almost joined a local Baptist church. Now we attended that church throughout my pregnancy with girl child, even took the membership class but after a year and a half of attending (I was the only chocolate drop in the joint) we decided against it when we realized again folks lacked warmth and were only grudgingly pleasant towards us.

After the Baptist church, we went to a non-denominational start up that had awesome music but after the pastor started telling folks if they were sick, poor and didn’t speak in tongues, they were not real Christians, we had to let them go. I admit it was hard to let that church go, see they had real music, music that touched your soul. However we didn’t see eye to eye with them and I have a problem with  anyone who blames suffering on a lack of faith, sorry but some of the most spirit filled faithful folks have the hardest lives, look at Job?

In my search for a church home, I noticed that every church we went to the music was lacking and there was that annoying tendency to have the congregation get up and sing along with the choir…..Look, I am used to churches that if they have a choir, the choir sings. In fact the whole sing-along with the choir just annoys me aside from the fact that much of the music leaves me going UGH….I know we aren’t there for the music solely but I love to worship with music that touches my soul. Off key sing-alongs just don’t touch me, sorry….

So we went to a few more churches before we finally found the one that became our church home. Now I admit I am not crazy about the music at my church, at times its lacks a certain amount of soul but I live in Maine and finding a church where my presence was not merely tolerated was important. I am not the only person of color at my church, the pastor and associate pastor at times have gone out of their way to make me feel welcomed and most members seem cool with me. So I have an uneasy truth with the fact that I feel most of the services are Christianity lite IMO but the church has a great children’s program and at least for the moment it meets our needs.

I should mention that we do have a Black church in Portland, in fact its one of the oldest Black churches in America, but due to some issues I have had with folks professionally that attend that church, I refuse to go there on just general principal. Maine is a small place so that’s all I can say.

Which brings me to the point of today’s babble, in 7 years of visiting churches I can honestly say there is a real difference in how Blacks and Whites worship, its neither good nor bad just different. The Spousal Unit had attended Black churches with me and always felt welcomed, heck he became a member of my Pop’s church but I cannot say honestly that my experiences in white churches have been as good as his have been with Black churches.

Funny thing is as Christians, we should hold to Paul’s words from the book of Galatians “ There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for all are one in Christ Jesus. I suspect if we did there might not be so many good god-fearing Christians that use Christianity as a tool to excuse their bigotry. One need only look at the recent presidential election to see folks using religion as a way to excuse the fact they didn’t want a Black guy in charge.

As for me, I will keep worshipping in a way that makes sense to me, and that means treating all folks the right way.

Creeping up

15 May

Looks like a gorgeous day here in Maine. I woke up early with plans to attend my Friday yoga class but my body decided to tell me that, that might be a bad idea. Instead I have time to blog , prepare for a meeting this morning and think about how my weight is creeping up again.

The past month, I have been in a funk. All this talk of financial woes has me in a bad a mood and when I get in a bad mood, my default for dealing with stress is to stuff my mouth. I have done well the past year as far as maintaining my almost 50 pound weight loss, until this month I have stayed several pounds under my weight goal. Even now I am still under that number but dangerously close to it and not comfortable with it at all.

Its funny because I have not set out to just stuff my mouth but looking back this month, I have barely ate my usual breakfast of oatmeal. I must confess I hate oatmeal, for almost the past 4 years oatmeal is generally what I eat most mornings. Its a good meal because unlike cold cereal it tends to keep me full and doesn’t have a ton of calories. Problem is there are only so many ways to eat it and after all this time it has started to taste like gruel, but whenever I don’t eat it in the morning, I find myself snacking mid-morning. The only way that does not happen is if I eat a large breakfast but too many mornings of bacon and pancakes or breakfast burritos also seems to add on the weight. Of course the cinnamon rolls I have been getting from the new fabulous bakery down the street from my office aren’t helping either.

Funny thing about weight creeping up is it happens so slowly that at first you don’t notice it. I mean what’s an extra 2-3 lbs? Of course that was the road that led me to gaining weight several years ago. I spent most of my life without a weight problem and when I quit smoking the first time, my new habit became eating…very stereotypical when it comes to not smoking.

Anyway now that the scale has confirmed that indeed my weight is creeping up (I thought my pants had shrunk at first….I know, nice try) its time to work my plan. That means back to a daily exercise routine or at least a daily walk and stopping my new found chip habit. At any given time we have several cases of snack chips in my office so I have been partaking which is really a bad idea.

So Happy Friday to everyone, hopefully the weather will hold up and allow me to get out and start walking again. Of course I will need to walk right past that baker at the Farmers Market in the morning and not buy any of her lovely treats. Though maybe if I walk around in enough circles I can burn off the calories that would be added if I bought one of those amazing Sour Cream Blueberry Coffeecakes!

The spirituality of my hair

14 May

There is nothing like a post on Black women and hair to get some attention in the blogosphere. Of course Black women and our hair have a rather deep and unique relationship. Thanks to all those who posted on my last post, as I lamented over what to do about my beloved locks, I must admit I am still unsure but due to a reaction I had a few hours after writing that post, I know I need to think about it.

See, when I first cut my hair and went natural, I was a hair evangelist, much like a newly born again Christian who feels the need to share the goods news of Jesus Christ. I spent the first several years of being a proudly nappy haired Black woman telling other Black women who had not gotten on board with their naps that they must find and embrace naps. Looking back I shudder now to think about how obnoxious I may have been, but again I wanted to share the good news.

It wasn’t until I started my dreads that I stopped being such a zealot about natural hair on Black women. I will be honest and say that I generally think most Black women look much better with their hair worn naturally but I am also at a point where I can admit when a sista has a banging relaxed style. However most sistas I see in real life with relaxed hair generally look ho-hum at best. Of course the key to hair in general is maintaining it well no matter if you have chemically processed hair or not.

No, see my dreads were not a fashion statement. I had wanted dreads ever since I was 17, going so far at 18-19 as to stop combing my hair thinking that they would lock…it didn’t happen, instead I looked a hot mess. So back I went to the relaxer and later wearing my hair short and natural.

It was the death of my beloved mother that made me take the plunge, her death changed me at the deepest core. I am not the person I was prior to her death, in many ways and the Spousal Unit agrees, I am a nicer person. I strive to be deeper and more compassionate. My mother used to tease me that I was a bitch and the truth is I was very much a bitch and I knew that I needed to change. Her death was the catalyst for me growing up and getting in touch with my inner woman who is compassionate and caring, though lately I wonder if I have gone too far with this niceness bit but that’s for another day.

So how does hair fit into this? Well the process and journey of locking requires patience I have learned. In the early days I had a lot of ugly hair days, a lot of days that felt unsure and I will be damned if there was not a connection between the state of my hair and the state of my mind. As my locks started out as unsure babies much like the new me after my mother’s death, eventually they started toddling…sort of like a toddler does and so on.

Somewhere about 2 years ago, my locks reached a state where they started to look good and again looking at my internal state, that is around the time I started to feel steady and stable emotionally in being the new me. Even now the state of uncertainty that I have around my dreads is similar to what I am facing personally…regular readers know that in recent months I have blogged about my financial woes and even my marital issues. As I told the Spousal Unit the other night, the state of my hair seem to be bound to the state of my mind.

I wrote in the comment section of my last post that I feel like cutting off my locks would feel like I am cutting off my antenna, I know that sounds dramatic as hell but honestly that is how I feel. I neither want or need my locks to be perfectly groomed, but much like my financial life is feeling out of control is how I feel my hair looks and feels at the moment.

So while I am still unsure about what I will eventually do, I know that I need to be still and wait to be led as there may be lessons still to be learned on this journey.