Random: Haircut

I just got a haircut in Falls Church, VA. I walked into a Hair Cuttery, and everyone there had natural black hair. My stylist was originally from Vietnam, and I realized it had not been since I lived in DC area that I had my hair cut by a non-Caucasian person, let alone another Asian person.

I thought Richmond was somewhat diverse, but I realized it was not as diverse as compared to my experience tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I love RVA…I just wish there were stylists that can cut my hair. πŸ˜‰ I didn’t even realize the difference till tonight.

I might have also been flattered into a positive outlook, my stylist Ahn said I gave you a young person’s haircut, because you look so young. It’s nice to be Korean-American and in my late 30s. πŸ˜‰ I thank both my parents for my youthful genes.

Here is a 10 words haircut poem, just because:

youthful look with a new do
make way for hottie

Meditation Poem Series: #10

Charlotte Joko Beck in her book Everyday Zen wrote:

Sitting is something we do for a lifetime. There is no end to the opening up that is possible for a human being. Eventually we see that we are the limitless, boundless ground of the universe. Our job for the rest of our life is to open up into that immensity and to express it. Having more and more contact with this reality always brings compassion for others and changes our daily life. We live differently, work differently, relate to people differently. Zen is a lifelong study. It isn’t just sitting on a cushion for thirty or forty minutes a day. Our whole life becomes practice, twenty-four hours a day.

I appreciate Beck and her teachings of dharma in the context of American soil, and speaking into lives of people like me who try to practice as we live our ordinary lives.

My daughter woke up around 6am and we were in movement till she fell asleep for a nap. We went to a Christmas parade, and then a lunch. If my whole life is a practice, it includes seeing giant Santa balloons and finally being able to sit for 15 minutes while my daughter napped. I breathed and realized how sleepy and tired I was. Beck was practically a single mom and dedicated her life to the practice, but that’s her and this is me.

So here’s me sitting and writing another day. I keep coming back to my cushion.

Meditation Poem #10: Ordinary Life
I sit like the awakened one
midst Santa floating by