Monday, July 5, 2010

Going Gray and Being Real

I've been going gray since before my oldest child (who is turning 11 tomorrow, but that's a whole other post) was born. I've been coloring my hair just as long. This year I decided to go natural, and I've been struggling with it a bit. My husband doesn't really like it. Then, this afternoon I'm reading Firstlight by Sue Monk Kidd and come across the story about her daughter asking if her great-grandmother's wrinkles hurt. Kidd responds by reading The Velveteen Rabbit to her, ending with "You see, Ann, Grandma is just getting 'real.' That's all." But what really hit me was the author's further musings about how the markings of age don't matter much,  except to those who don't understand. "What mattered was becoming 'real.' What mattered was loving and being loved for a long, long time."

From now on when I struggle with this part of aging I'm going to remember this story from Sue Monk Kidd and know that the most important reason I can give for why I'm doing it is because it is a part of the "real" me. A part of which I hope everyone in my life will chose to love.


Redbeet Mama said...

What a great post! I am going gray - all natural - sometimes it feels so easy just to be real - other times I questioned should I really?? I admire woman with gray hair - they look so confident and happy - that is what I am going for!!!Plus I love wearing purple - and the two colors look awesome together.

Much love, Nicole

gardenofsimple said...

love it! I'm only going to be 30 this year, and no gray yet - but I've already been fretting over the wrinkles I'm seeing more and more of. I hope to age gracefully and not kicking and screaming, but it ain't easy! ;D

A poem I love:

the woman I’ve wanted,
grey at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that’s
known bitter
but, past it, got better,
knows she’s a survivor­
that whatever comes,
she can outlast it.
I am becoming a deep
weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman
I’ve longed for,
the motherly lover
with arms strong and tender,
the growing up daughter
who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons
and sunrises.
I find her becoming,
this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’ll encompass,
who knows she’s sufficient,
knows where she’s going
and travels with passion.
Who remembers she’s precious,
but knows she’s not scarce­
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.

Renae said...

I haven't had the courage to go gray yet. My oldest - also 11 - begs me not to. My youngest says "mom, it's time to go get your hair painted!" I have missed this one by SMK - I may have to get it. Congratulations on "getting real".


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