I have been thinking about the notion of faith today because I saw a video posted on Facebook that raised this topic. It was an audio recording of the comedian Jim Carrey telling an audience about his philosophical outlook. I guess he’s a positive thinker, and faith is a cornerstone of his take on having a good attitude in life.
Carrey was cited advising people to have faith. He defined it as a religion neutral use of the term. He meant having faith in goodness and good results. He counseled others not to chase a dream of fame and riches, but to pursue some real passion that is in the heart. He seemed to be implying that purity of spirit, trueness to one’s own nature and perseverance in doing good things toward some honorable goal would bring about good results. Maybe I am putting words in his mouth by that interpretation, but I like his slant on faith, and I like that he names it as an aspect of living well. I agree with that idea, and faith is a part of my positive outlook.
I wrote the next excerpt of my humorous anecdotes, Confessions, today. I think I can finish it by the new year because I should have more free time from here on in. Anyway, here is the latest as a sample. It will soon be posted on Smashwords.
14.Horror at the Hair Salon
We all know the scary uncertainty of anticipating the next hair cut. Anything could happen at the salon (or, “studios” or “maisons” or “styling centers”…), whether the price tag is a hundred or twenty bucks.
Hair dressers have too much power. They take the money and hold the scissors. Once you surrender, plunking yourself down in the swivel chair, and looking disappointingly at both persons who stare back at you in that huge mirror in front of you and you realize your weaknesses and disadvantages.
The reflection in the mirror casts back so much doubt. All you can see are flaws, especially in your appearance. The cracks and shadows are exposed there. The glaring lighting and odd color schemes of the salons do not help much. Those mirrors also hold strange powers to beat the customer down.
Moreover, the stylists or dressers more you feel confident and put your trust in them, the more confident they feel, which may be a dangerous development. Any day you go to see them, they may suddenly be obsessed with a whim to make an unauthorized change in the program feeling so confident that they let go their own desires and give in to their own vision of you. Else, they may become bored with you, or their jobs, and fall prey to absent mindedness, failing to hear your careful instructions or letting them wash over a flaccid mind one day. Either way, the results can be a heart-breaking, morale busting, identity questioning disaster, as far as you are concerned.
I just came back home from a trip to the neighbourhood hair salon. Writing is therapeutic as I try to recuperate from the anxiety of going there in the first place. I was ready for any slip-up and kept an eagle eye on him the whole time today, but managed to leave with dignity intact, no violation having occurred. I guess I was lucky.
The last time I visited, my hair dresser had one of those wild card moments. Perhaps deciding to make his day a little more exciting, he sliced and diced the sides enclosing my face when I was not paying close attention. I had let my mind slip into neutral the way it does when I enter stores and stand in the cashier’s queue. I simply let go of my defences. We long to do that in this complicated and bureaucratic society; we want not to have to think and unconsciously seek opportunities let things coast, but it is hazardous. I mindlessly looked up and said it was fine after the job was done, paid and headed back home, only to gaze more closely in my bathroom mirror and be shocked. He had given me some kind of 80s dashing upward cut, leaving chunks of hair at either side stand out as he had left the at the front the longest and cut up toward the hairline above the ear. The aesthetic effect was not as alarming as this great swath of hair cascading in front of my right eye, although I felt that the style did not suit me at all. I returned to the salon and confronted the guy. He laughed, seeming to understand why I was dissatisfied and conceding my wishes immediately. The only remedy he could offer was to cut the front layer back, so that the fringe no longer fell down over my eye.
I had thought we had an understanding. I thought he knew is boundaries with me. After the first few visits, I thought we had worked out color tone, length, and style. I thought it was all settled. However, that is how it often goes. As soon as you feel comfortable and relax, they might attack. One has to keep up one’s guard.
I could see my brow creasing and eyes squinting as I dubiously examined all his clipping today, clip by clip. It was a bit of a strain to do that. I expect that he knew I was watching closely this time, and ready to pounce on him should he make one wrong move. Perhaps that’s why he seemed to be slapping my head around a bit while he was washing my hair, then blow-drying it. Hm. Other than that, I escaped unscarred this time.
It will not be until a couple of months from now that I will have to return and go through the ordeal one more time. For now, though, I guess I can more or less relax.