Te: The Power of Small Things

I combed my hair the other day.

For many months now, I've been sporting what I've referred to as, "The Mad Scientist Look."  Hair going up and out in every direction, like a birds' nest; my only effort to do my hair in the morning being simply to wet it, towel it dry, and then muss it up as much as possible, almost as if I were giving myself a noogie.  Though I thought of it as "Mad Scientist," in retrospect it probably came off more as "The Homeless Junkie Look."

After my drift on Saturday, after my shower, as I was getting myself ready to go out to dinner, I decided to comb my hair.  I honestly can't remember the last time I did this.  (Even before the M-S-L, all of the haircuts I've had in recent memory have required the use of my hands to arrange, if they've needed arranging at all.  I can't remember the last brush I owned, and the only thing I've used a comb for lately is my beard.)  Just combed my wet hair back along my part, very simple and neat.  I don't know why I made that particular change just then, but I felt different, so it felt right to look different.  And I'm still following my instincts, listening to my gut, going with the flow of my Tao, etc.  And the pull inside me just then said, "comb your hair."  So I did.

I have to say that I like the new look better than the old.  Overnight my hair went from curly to straight.  And I hadn't realized how long my hair had gotten.  Swept back over my skull, it has an almost classic, yet still quite nerdy feel that I find I'm enjoying.

But it was a fairly severe departure, as you can imagine.  Pretty much the exact opposite of what I'd been doing before.  This has become especially apparent to me today, now that I am back at work, in the form of the many double-takes I've received from co-workers.  Over and over again, I'll pass someone in the hall whom I've worked with for many years, and we'll each say "hi."  And I'll see in their eyes when we first address each other, just a split-second of the process Incomprehension-to-Recognition-to-Surprise.

What I realize as I observe this, is the Tao of Properly Applied Force.

Such a small thing to do, such a minor difference to make, and with such minimal effort.  But the affect of this miniscule action ripples out through my entire life and changes so much.  My appearance, or the information that I broadcast to every other human I encounter in my day-to-day life, is now completely different.  And so not only has my message changed, but for those who know me, and who know how I looked before, there is the additional message of, "something has changed with him; he is different now than he was before."  And not just with the hair.  Because on some level, even for just a microsecond, they have to think:  Why did he do that?  Why would he change his appearance to almost the exact opposite of the way it has been for so long now?  And why now?  What happened to him?

And it affects me greatly, as well.  Every time I look in the mirror, or catch my reflection in a pane of glass out of the corner of my eye, I see someone that I don't immediately recognize.  For a split-second, I am a stranger to myself.  And again, there is that instant of cognitive dissonance, of gnosis.  That brief crack in reality where, for the tiniest of moments, you're not sure which side of the looking glass you're standing on.  That hyperunit of time where everything is true, and everything is possible.  And then recognition sets in, and your ego returns, and you're suddenly aware of who you are again.  The effect of so many brief flashes of un-reality inserted into ones' day is not to be underestimated.  It tends to make everything feel less real, and more fluid; it tends to make the seemingly impossible feel more possible.  And it is exhilarating.

I've managed to change my sense of what is real, simply by combing my hair.