Today I had a Self-Care Event…

My life has become so androgynous that I seldom think of myself as a ‘girl’. Chronology dictates that I am called ‘woman,’ now, and lots of people do call me Ma’am. I seldom have issues with either.

Today I had my hair done professionally, at an actual salon. I am having new photos taken for various websites and book jackets and, well, the way my tresses looked simply wouldn’t do. My videographer has been kind enough not to comment, but after enough raised eyebrows one gets the drift.

For the many years of my consulting business, I went to the salon every several weeks. It saved time, made me look good, and the money wasn’t an issue. I frequented YOSH, in the San Francisco Bay area, for years. YOSH on Maiden Lane. Poshest of the poshiest. I didn’t go to his salon because of that. I went because his stylists and colorists did a brilliant job. Brilliant. They kept me looking professional when that would have taken way too much time and effort on my part, using skills I have never possessed. {The way my hair has looked for the past year tells that story all too well.}

So, today, I did what people call ‘treating themselves.’ I had someone do a professional color correct and take off the dead ends. Not more than that. I need my antennae, thanks. And these ladies…listened.

I look groomed again, for whatever that’s worth. Maybe not so much, but as I sat there, having my antennae yanked and waiting for the morning’s ordeal to end, I realized something. There was an aspect to this that was fun. No loud punchy, pounding bass, only soft instrumental music, played at soothing levels. Only women employees. Only organic products used and sold. One of the best scalp massages I have ever experienced. Demonstrable skills used with care.

{I do need a chew toy to gnaw on, now. My canine companions demanded and swore by them after grooming.}

As I looked into the mirror, I heard myself tell the stylist, “I look like me again!” Funny, that. There isn’t so much ‘me’ left to look like, and hasn’t been for a long time. But I knew what I meant and so did she. We smiled, one of those deep, secret smiles that happen between the like-vibrationed.

Or, maybe, between those who know what it is to feel good in their skin.

Sometimes self care comes down to the simplest of things. Then again, SHE is the simplest of All.

~ Namaste ~