PLATINUM LOCKS

Stepping into the Unknown

As a Feng Shui Consultant being one of the ways I show up in the world, I’ve come to understand the nuance, paradox and interplay that exists within the way the outer and inner reflections manifest.

Sometimes a house is newer, but has grown wise because of the depth and capacity of life that has been lived inside its walls, yet it is still youthful by number.

Some houses are very old, yet lack the wisdom that should be visible because those that resided behind the walls lived superficially, cookie cutter.

It’s important to recognize your home as an intermediary between you and nature.  The outside and inside touch, always, just like the vessel with which you reside.

The cracks and imperfections that make us unique and special, so too, make your home. The tree that always loses a limb, the bush always trying to peak through the window, the birds that land on your windowsill, the sound of rain beating down on the roof, reminders that both need attention.

There is always a micro to the macro and our bodies are also our home, a balance between a safe purified container and dirty wildness…. a tidy organized supportive space and a chaotic creation of shadowy freedom…a calmed nervous system paired with primal impulses for the dance of living through the fear, joy, beauty, sorrow.

It’s all a perfect mess, ebbing and flowing between seasons.

I have written on the topic of aging “gracefully” before, I find myself in a new season of life, calling for another shift.

I’ve had several dark nights in my life, reinvented myself after old versions of me died, but something is different this time.

My hair began to turn “grey” in my early 30’s, but I have always colored it to maintain my brunette mane, which I didn’t realize how much I was attached to, until recently.

Because I’ve chopped my hair off very short several times in life, I know the cathartic and terrifying feeling of looking in the mirror and thinking “what have I done?” Who is that staring back at me?  Each time I can see this was more about letting go of what I had stored in my hair, that was ready to be released, than anything else. Stored trauma, experiences, and energy that wasn’t transmuted rested upon my head like a weight…rapunzel in the tower holding on to something that was no longer meant to be.

For years, I’ve been trying to remove more and more toxins from life. I found a hair dye, as natural as possible, to switch to in order to lessen the chemical effects, but as I have done so much inner work to peel back layers hiding the real me, I started to tire of the maintenance.

(psst: I’m not writing this from a place of judgement for those that dye their hair, just stay with me.)

I found myself staring in the mirror with a shower cap on waiting 45 minutes for the grey hairs to “cover” up and a lightbulb went off…. what am I doing? Who am I doing this for? Why? Is this a form of masking? How is this energetically affecting my “crown” chakra? Why does it matter if I appear younger? Damn, another level to unmask in the shadowy world of Angela. Truthfully, I feel the brunette matches the numerical age I feel on the inside, but even that leaves me trapped inside a paradigm of numbers based on what society dictates.

When this first started bothering me, I was dating someone, so I decided to ask the question: “What would you think if I let my natural hair color grow out?” To which he responded: I wouldn’t like it. I wouldn’t be attracted to you. I wouldn’t date you.

Wow. WTF. In that moment a smorgesboard of realizations came over me and, while I appreciated the honesty (because that wasn’t always there), I was angry at myself because deep down I already knew the answer….that shallowness by its own word can’t hide for long.

Now, listen, men, I get it, there’s a certain biology, pheromones and things to being attracted to a “fertile” woman (according to what society calls fertile anyway or in baby making times of life), but this was a whole other level.

I came to realize it wasn’t that he would suddenly no longer be attracted to me, it was that he was incredibly emotionally void, immature, and had mother wounds that he would have had to look at if my hair was gray because he never wanted a partner, he wanted a mommy. There were other clues that made this evident, like a disdain for any talk or connection to the Divine feminine, thus, in truth, it was never even about me. I share this, not to point out another’s flaws, because we all have them, but because it’s important to recgonize when we project our wounds and how it might make another person feel.

After talking with other women, I realized I was not alone in this type of experience. People can only meet us to the depths they have done the work themselves. I certainly had father wounds I’ve worked to heal and this was the thread that finally helped me see the pattern I was playing out for coping and survival, giving room for it to begin to dissolve before me.

If a man isn’t mature spiritually and emotionally, only focused on the superficiality OR the pursuit of intimacy for the sake of pleasure, not genuine connection and love then of course the color of a woman’s hair could be triggering. Obviously this goes both ways. If there are attributes for a man, such as growing a beard or shaving one off, that may trigger a woman who is also not there for the right reasons then a similar opportunity may arise for self reflection and dissolution of something that was in our life for a lesson. Soul connections trump conscious connections because the heart has to show up to the table, not just the mind.

This experience made me appreciate how far I had come in my healing journey (I hate saying that phrase, but it is what it is).  It also showed me how many times in my life I compromised my true self, my authentic expression to appeal to another.

Maybe this is why I wear hats a lot, because it feels like it’s a way to keep my energy reserves, like a house, it’s sealing up the door from leaking. I think in the past when people wore gloves and hats there must have been an unspoken knowing this was a form of energetic protection. Fashionable spiritual warfare in top hats and silk gloves, meetings to read poetry and dance to jazz records sounds like such a time to be alive, if only in my imagination. In these everything out-there for all the world to see times we live in, maybe it would be nice to bring back the subtle awareness of the influence to which our energy extends. The paradox is noted.

A hat is like a no trespassing sign, without a passcode to unlock what’s in the locks.

I began to wonder why hair is referred to as “locks?” Was it because of lockets as a place to store hair of a loved one? Hair certainly holds energy that can be wielded, thus, there is truth in the magickal myths and lore of using it in spells, potions and memorabilia…or was it something else?

What exactly is under Lock and Key? After all, Crone means Crown and signifies a rite of passage, initation into a new chapter, one I’m not numerically due to turn the page onto yet at only 48, despite what my hair says.

One etymological definition of lock, as a verb, is “Middle English, loken love or “hidden love, clandestine love.” This is funny to me, because it’s finding “curiosity” for my own locks where I am locating the underworld of self-love that was hidden, buried under a cover that held years of bad self-esteem and fear of aging…because that’s what we’re supposed to do right? If ever there was an assault by propaganda it is that of the anti-aging campaigns, even the natural products now are everywhere…finally the fountain of youth can be yours for a mere $99.99 for this 1 oz bottle of false promises and denial.

About 6 weeks ago, I decided to potentially grow my natural hair out…. I’m calling it Platinum, not grey. Grey does signify a balance of opposites though, you know, that whole “wisdom” thing, but I’m not there just yet.

Apparently, there are whole channels devoted to this topic, helping women cope with the psychological shift that happens and shit from other people trying to project their own insecurities all because a woman decides to let her hair be its natural cover…that’s messed up.

Like the house mentioned above, the vitality I feel doesn’t necessarily match with the vast life experience and knowledge I’ve accumulated.   My hair color has nothing to do with the vibrancy of my spirit, the joy of my inner child, and yet , I wonder, will the perception of others shift if I continue down this road?

People often think I look younger than my age, and I feel younger, but it’s all arbitrary because the matrix wants women to start thinking about menopause well in advance, which is bullshit anyway, a whole rabbit hole this one is…I mean, under no context is it acceptable to pause men…I don’t like that phrase for a number of reasons. Men, we’re definitely not pausing and we need ya’ll more than ever. I think many women gain grey hair much sooner than they want to admit, but because the beauty standards of society are so damn insane they keep coloring it to maintain what we’re TOLD is youthful…beautiful…acceptable.

I’m writing this for all the women like me:

• Who were told they weren’t worthy, too much, not enough

• Who feel shamed by others or embarassment for your “roots’ showing

• Who were told they wouldn’t be beautiful if their hair changed

• Who felt they had to strive to uphold standards that are impossible, be it for themselves, another, or even a career

• Who are ready to let their wildness out and soar, free, ready to release the pressure valve to fit into someone else’s mold

I decided to post on Facebook to see what kind of comments I would get to the possibility of going through the grow-out phase of letting new ROOTS take hold, literally and metaphysically, as I continue to step forward into new versions of me…my true “nature.”

Most of the responses have been encouraging or positive. Some have been fear based like, “oh you’re brave” or “make the transition – EASIER – by coloring it gray” or “cut it all off to make the transition EASIER…funny how that easy button shows up everywhere in the main-stream views, though I appreciate the suggestions and maybe they are right, maybe there is a time when the easy button is warranted.

I’m certain there are men out there who can see the beauty and find appreciation for silvery strands and the symbolism within its alchemical emanation.

It’s not easy, this aging thing….and whoever my person is, wherever he is, I’m sure he will like my locks however they are…because what is for me is for me…what is not won’t have the key to unlock the destiny that is meant to be.

I hold no judgement for women who color their hair, I’ve done it for 20 years AND I reserve the right to change my mind any time I want on this journey and even if I choose once again to keep on coloring…for today I’m playing in the field of curiosity.

As I work to continuously become healthier, maybe my hair will turn back brown naturally, maybe it will become curly, I’m open to the possibilities…. either way, I’m terrified and exhilarated at the thought of freeing myself from the shackles of the chore of painting a brown crown upon my head and letting my hair breathe, exhale, and flow with thanks for all the wisdom that has grown through the pores on my scalp, tiny portals to wavelengths that have been smothered in expectations, including my own.

Immaturity doesn’t discriminate and maturity has to be devloped, and earned. The house doesn’t always tell the story you think it will until you get to know it…until you look behind the walls and unlock the doors.

Somehow, men just get more distinguished no matter if they have hair or not, grey, or not. At the same time, we’ve equated women’s desirability as that of maintaining the 20 year old version of us no matter how old we get and that’s not good for anyone, for relationships, as an example for the youth, anyone. It’s profitable, but not good.

I’ll report back on the journey…. will I chicken out? Will I go all out? Subscribe to find out! Ha-ha! 😊 But seriously, Because it’s impossible to know how I’ll really feel until I’m further along the process, I’m giving myself permission to fail as much as I am using this as a challenge to myself to really move through another layer of self contemplation.

I even bought a wig to test this whole thing…witchy vibes getting witchier and I’m here for it. I’m here for dismantling the image of the crone always being portrayed as ugly, feeble and infertile because women at any age can be beautiful, agile and fertile with life in many other ways!

Also, it is interesting how young women are now dying their hair gray, perhaps it’s a wish for wisdom to hurry up and grow in, yet all of us who have really lived know this only happens with time and facing the challenges of moving through life.

Even the word dye means to obscure, another way for what is natural to die, or not be appreciated. This must be why it is so freeing to let what is, be as it is meant to be.

I think it’s time we throw the marketing tagline “age gracefully” away…age with abandon, age with freedom, age with boldness and sensuality, age with modesty and quiet sensibility, age by defying all the odds, age by creating beauty on your terms, age with unruly locks or a perfectly coiffed bun, age with gratitude for the knowledge bestowed upon you in your time here, age with reverance and connection to your Divine Feminine, or Divine Masculine….and keep a lid on it when necessary because that’s the land of pineal and other mystical rooms with doors that sometimes need to be kept locked up…

The outer and inner are ever woven together, it’s undeniable. What sometimes seems superficial is anything but, because our bodies are sacred vessels to integrate within the whole of our being and the journey we trod, ever how wild or tame the walk. Maybe this endeavor is symbolic of finding more balance and harmony on the middle path, or maybe it’s just a temporary stop off on the road, uknown.

I don’t know if these platinum locks are hereditary, a result of stress, a mineral shortage or what, but regardless, it is part of me.

May the roots of your house be strong and the roof of your house be a protective crown of connection, as above, as below.

With love and beauty in shades of gray, golden-locks, brunette hues, or whatever shade of you that you choose…Don’t let anyone’s projection, attack or own personal fears take away the beauty that resides in you and how you choose to express that outwardly.

My worthiness as a woman is not dependant upon the color of my hair and making someone feel a certain way. I’ll be over here growing out my platinum silver crown, letting my wisdom show and enjoying life.

Be bold and brave,
Angela
The Irrational Sage

(P.S. This is my grandmother, her white hair came in young as well, I hardly remember her without it, a little inspiration)