Grey Hair + Social Statements

What does grey hair mean to you? What does it symbolize? Are there any women out there with grey hair that we consider sexy?

I've been going grey for a long time. I discovered my first grey hair before I graduated high school. No shock there, knowing my family it was highly anticipated.

My maternal grandmother went grey at 16, hers came in as a white streak in the front - very chic and stylish. She never coloured her hair, accepting the grey that became white. It suits her and her white hair is her trademark- beautiful white that glimmers and radiates. My mother went grey a bit later, in her twenties, but had already started colouring it before that. She's been colouring it ever since and now, with completely white roots has to maintain the colour every three weeks. It is her battle, her nemesis, her bothersome routine. My dad too, has been grey for years. The middle brother in a family of 8 siblings, he turned salt and pepper first, in his early 30s. My Israeli uncles would joke that his moving to cold, snowy Canada was represented in his hair.

Thus, grey was my expected destiny.
I knew it was coming and wished I would be as lucky as my grandmother with a sexy white stripe seductively falling forward. Instead, mine came in as spilt milk on the crown of my head moving forward, taking over in a quiet revolution, abolishing auburn in favour of silver thread.

I initially opted for my mother's solution - dye it back to what it was, hide the grey and hide it well. This was continued until recently. I coloured my hair at home using Herbatint - a vegetable based peroxide-free, cruelty-free colour for about 12 years. In that time, the grey continued to grow masked by Light Copper Chestnut, roots erased at regular 6 week intervals. Family, friends, strangers all commented on how natural it looked, how the shade suited me, how beautiful it looked in the light. I loved the colour and the way it made me feel - vivacious, audacious, cute and fresh. I thought I would continue in this manner for a long time. After all, 36 is rather young to be completely grey and the tinted shade enhanced my pale complexion in a manner I'm certain peppery brown will not.

Still, recently my attitude changed. I can't pinpoint the moment. Perhaps it was the fact that I realized that hair dye doesn't stop time. It can't halt the eventual expropriation of grey over my cocoa-coppery hair. Perhaps I was bothered by the wastefulness of the process. Painting over the grey requires a new box of colour each month thus disposing of a container of colour and a container of activating gel - neither of which can be recycled. And, the time of the process is tedious. Covering the grey takes about 45 minutes for the roots, waiting half an hour, covering the ends, waiting 10 minutes, rinsing, shampooing, conditioning, rinsing again and finally drying.
I realize that beauty takes time - there is no such thing as a true natural. Everyone has to take time to look good. But for me it became less of looking good and more of hiding from myself.
Perhaps the decision has to do with the fact that my mother is currently going through a hair crisis as she wishes to stop hiding the grey but cannot unless she cuts off all her hair and starts over. As she is now entirely white, it makes sense to give up on the colour. However, my brother is getting married in 2 months and she doesn't want to look in-between. Also, and this may be the bigger issue, my father doesn't want her to look like an old lady.

My dad has opposed the grey issue for years. He can accept the grey for himself, but not for her. This struck me as odd and clearly reflective of society as a whole.

There are currently very few women - known celebrities who accept the grey and wear it proud. In fact, I can't think of any to mention by name. People Magazine's 100 Beautiful doesn't have any female beauty with grey hair. Yet, George Clooney is salt and pepper and stunning. He is distinguished with grey - while I will be deemed dowdy. Famous women tend to sign up for contracts with Clairol, L'oreal, etc. For example, Teri Hatcher, Chantal Kreviazuk, Heather Locklear, Beyonce, Jennifer Lopez, Sarah Jessica Parker - all at one time or another pitched for the dye job. Obviously, Hollywood being the epicentre of youth glamour, denying the grey makes sense. But I question the issue further - is grey on a woman less beautiful?

If I maintain my physique, maintain my complexion and my health will grey hair automatically make me look like a crone? A witch? A spinster? Will men find me attractive? Will it make me sexier? Individualistic? Creative? Unique? Beautiful? I cannot decide.

I know these are not new questions. Academics and social commentators have all studied the politics and implications of the issue. But now it affects me on a personal level. So I continue to ask and ponder.

For now, I am trying to grow out the colour and see how I'll feel. It's going to take a long time. I don't want to cut it all off in a drastic manner. I'm going for the slow and painful method. I may cave in and get hi-lites to hide the clear differentiation between Light Chestnut and Brownish Grey. I may have to give up and give in. Especially considering that I don't want to look ridiculous for the upcoming wedding. However, for now I'm going to try to stick with it and see what happens with this experiment. If it goes really wrong and I look silly as a silvery toned mop-top I'll have to reconsider.

One thing though, I'm paying more attention to those women who don't dye the grey. I'm judging and assessing, evaluating and inspecting. The jury is deliberating while the grey of course, is always progressing.

End of Vacation/End of Potential/Fibonacci Too

My vacation from work ends on Sunday.

SIGH

I loved hanging around the house, seeing family and getting a good night's sleep on a regular basis. When I work all three are so rare that this was a real treat! The three weeks went by so quickly! Now I have to wait until October for my second installment of vacation '06.

Why can't I think of one person who enjoys their job?

I just wonder why it has to be this way. How did I go from a motivated journalist wannabe determined to make it in television to a defeatist flight attendant? I can chart the course and see the missteps and wish it wasn't so. Somewhere along the line my confidence eroded as I pursued my dream. I knew my strength lay in writing yet somehow always had to do something else to pay the bills. So, is it too late? Can a 36 year old with a mortgage and debt somehow transform herself into a writing sensation? I doubt a change is possible and at the same time desperately hope it can occur. I just want to accomplish more in this world.

How does one work in their passion? How does one manage to find the time? I have no clue how to balance the two. Any suggestions?

For now, in honour of the little writing I managed to do while on break, here is a poem I wrote. It's a Fibonacci poem just because I jumped on the bandwagon after reading about the trend. Why not? It inspired me and they are totally addictive! Way more fun than Sudoku.

I called the poem Hidden. Here it is...

Speak
and
I will
hear your voice
listen and you will
open enigmatic secrets

Tamar A./ April 2006

If I were a dog ...

This is who I would be.

I'm an ENTLEBUCHER SENNENHUND (ENTELBACH MOUNTAIN DOG). How cute!

This is according to the website http://www.gone2thedogs.com/ (Click on Games on the left and then follow the instructions on the right).
The description of this dog rings true. I definately am much happier when given more space.
This got me to thinking though and brought me back in a way to my previous entry. If I were a dog I would feel pleasure and pain. I would love and be lonely. I would seek companionship and affection. In other words, I would have very similar emotions to what I have now - not so different from the me in human form.
This is why I try to avoid species-ism - that ranking of hierarchal upper and lower beings. That is why I try to tread lightly on this earth and avoid that squirrel on the road, offer food to a stray cat, sprinkle some seeds for the birds and donate to various animal causes.
I read a wonderful editorial in the Toronto Star yesterday (22/4/06) in the Religion section by Punnadhammo Bhikkhu that states that animals are not so very different from us.
(http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1145483414729&call_pageid=970599119419)
Punnadhammo is an ordained Theravadan Buddhist monk and abbot of the Arrow River Community Center, a Buddhist forest monastery near Thunder Bay in Northern Ontario. I had never heard about him before. The opinion fascinated me. I agree with the published comments as I too believe that animals are conscious beings.

"... they have experience, emotions and are capable of suffering. They are not so very different from us. The mammals especially have social and familial relationships, and no one who has ever shared quarters with a dog or a cat will deny that they are capable of affection. Just imagine the fear, distress and anguish that must ripple through the seal colony as the sealers go abou their bloody work."

The opinion goes on to state concern and question the view of wild animals as a natural resource that exists for humans to harvest as painlessly as a corn field or an apple orchard. The author of the opinion is so much more eloquent than I can ever be. All I can do is sit at home nodding my head as I read the paper, wishing there would be more people with the same view. Hopeful on this Earth Day weekend that more people will be forward thinking about animals as conscious beings, about the environment and our impact in the long term, and about kindness in general.

Maybe we should all find out what kind of dog/cat/hamster/giraffe we would be. Maybe then we would be able to walk in their paws and be more considerate of their needs.

As for me and my inner Entlebucher, according to www.pets.ca I am lively, high spirited, self-assured and fearless. Good tempered and devoted towards people familiar to him. Slightly suspicious of strangers. Cannot be bribed as a watch dog. Cheerful and capable of learning.

Not too shabby!

Against Canada's Seal Hunt

Watching the seal hunt unfold this year, I had to wonder about compassion - that emotion that conveys kindness and consideration. It seemed to me that as a society we have lost our compassion toward other beings or people. We no longer care about anything beyond our short term selfish selves. Beyond that, we are seemingly no longer allowed to care, disallowed from wearing our heart on our sleeves, no longer encouraged to voice our concern or distaste for a brutal practice.
Various celebrities stood up and opposed the hunt only to be ridiculed by the media with a who-do-they-think-they-are indignity. Meanwhile, private individuals wrote letters to members of Parliament, the Prime Minister, signed petitions and attempted to rally against the hunt but their attempts were silenced by a lack of coverage. The famous deemed pathetic publicity whores when they protested, the anonymous deemed insignificant.
The seal hunt is consistently justified by the Canadian government and the hunters themselves - a necessary and viable source of income they say. Statistics were referenced, quotas were set, and the term heritage is utilized to justify the hunt for them. A hunt that according to various reports brings in a measly $14 million a year is defended rather than investigated. To it’s proponents, the hunt is quantified as an income. To kill a seal is to make a buck. To kill a seal is to make up for the lost fisheries. But I ask, how do you quantify the suffering of an animal? How do you quantify the loss to Canada’s self image now replete with bloody ice floes and carnage?
Time and again, various government representatives spoke out in outrage against various celebrities, individuals and even other countries comments opposing Canada’s hunt. One replied to a German criticism daring them to look at their own history before pointing fingers. Another thanked an American family for choosing to spend their vacation elsewhere as they protested the hunt with their tourist power. Both responses were insulting and in the long run debilitating to Canada. The media however, condoned these ridiculous responses and seemed to slant coverage in favour of the hunt rather than the discourse against it. This is not the Canada I thought I lived in.
Our government was upset at the compassion shown for seals rather than it’s policies and politics. Combined with the media the hunt was defended as though the entire population was proud of our seal killing capability. They ignore polls indicating quite the opposite, refuse to discuss the issue or re-examine viable options. Several parliament ministers and senators slam opponents refusing to see the other side, denying opponents a voice, denying our right in a democracy to disapprove of our government’s actions.
I am not a celebrity. I am a regular Canadian who does not want this practice defended on my behalf anymore. I am opposed to the senseless and brutal slaughter. I do not want blood on my hands. I do not want to carry the responsibility of pain, suffering and the extermination of any species on my conscience. Instead, I want my government to listen to it’s citizen’s concerns. I want my Prime Minister to examine the slaughter of seals, to step beyond the official reports and clearly re-think this issue. We are exterminating the seals as a means to their own end. It is nasty, brutal and selfish. I demand that explanation because I like my sense of compassion. I am proud of being able to feel something for another creature. I am not ashamed to wear my heart on my sleeve and right now I feel like Lady Macbeth trying impossibly to clean myself of that damn spot.

Beginning...

It is late Sunday morning.
My one day off this week and what am I doing? Posting.
I wonder if it's wise to take up a hobby that I know will demand a lot of time and commitment. I have so many other things to do today - grocery shopping would be wise as I'm out of food and toilet paper. I also have to prepare lunch for work tomorrow, spend time with my grandmother, spend time with my parents/siblings/cats/dog etc. But instead I'm here, in front of the computer typing away at approximately 40 wpm (I used to be faster, I was in the last high school typing class ever held way back in the late 1980s).
So, here I am using this medium for my message. Not that I know what that message is just yet as indicated in the Random Musings of my Blog title. Perhaps I should lay out my own ground rules...

1. Do not let this become another embittered I hate work/I hate life type of journal.
2. Use the space to reflect on daily occurences and observances (or weekly because I don't know if I can commit just yet).
3. Focus on a topic and see where it takes you in order to fulfil your chosen title and blog address.
4. Allow yourself to voice an opinion - no, refocus that and allow yourself to voice your opinion, allow yourself to be right, allow yourself to be wrong.
5. Write to empower yourself without ever harming others.
6. Be energetic.
7. Admit that the thoughts may often be silly but go with them anyway.
8. Admit mistakes and occasionally admit that you know of what you speak.
9. Be universally global and universally specific at the same time.
10. Enjoy the process of writing to enjoy the posted outcome.

For now I'm going to keep this project quiet, not advertise to anyone I know and relish the anonymity of it all. Being able to speak without those who know you judging, critiquing or commenting offers me more confidence than letting them see me fail ( I hate recieving 'I told you so's' even though I admit it is often enjoyable to give them to others). The process may embolden me to change my mind, but for now secrecy is my security blanket.

Somebody recently told me there is a belief that every 12 years we change - our bodies are made up of new cells, new particles, new atoms. Every 12 years we are someone new, our continuity maintained only by the knowledge of the person we once were. In other words, every 12 years we experience rebirth - a lifelong reincarnation offering us the chance to evolve into something better. Thus, in the beginning of my third reincarnation I am challenging myself to write and evolve through words. Hopefully this beginning will bring on many others.