Not So Bad Hair Day
Take a look at a young kid. Notice their hair. Chances are it’s a mess.
Kid + Bad Hair Day = Freedom
If you think about it, most kids (of course everyone is different) but in general, young kids don’t have much care about their hair. If it’s standing up in back, or smooshed down on the side, or messy, or even dirty, kids don’t care. Why? Because they are not consumed with their appearance, they are not riddled in fear that the state of their hair will ruin their good time.
I applaud this freedom. This carefree attitude is what marks youth – the ability to let the silly stuff go and focus on the fun at hand. The incredible spotlight that comes from operating from the inside, out – the outer shell being of little importance.
I want to play. I want to have fun. I want to roll in the grass. I want to ride my bike. This is the time in life where what you wear and how perfectly combed your hair is, does not matter. In fact, the messier, the better.
As a young kid, I could’ve cared less about the condition of my hair – and there are pictures to prove it. I looked like someone left me in the woods. Having my hair washed was just one of the primary battles my mother endured with me – that and eating my vegetables (what is it with kids repulsion to all that green stuff?) I was far too concerned with living in the moment – there was plenty of time for hair maintenance…later.
As adults, the opposite seems true. We are identified with our hair (or lack of it.) So much so that the phrase, bad hair day, is part of our daily lexicon. How we feel about our hair has become how we feel about ourselves. Such a flip from our childhood innocence. The external seems to call the shots, especially when humidity has run its fingers through our coif.
I know I can’t help but smile when I see a kid or two with bed-head. When I see a cowlick peeking up in back. When a kids curls have their own way of expressing themselves.
Perhaps a few bad hair days aren’t so bad after all.
