tonsure

Yesterday Watashi-wa went to have his hair cut - 3mm on top, 2mm on the sides. The Cretan barber did a good job, but very little came off the top, so I encouraged him to go a bit shorter. The result is that I now look like a tonsured monk. And it has been bothering me since yesterday.

It is amazing how, when the chips are down, I forget all the lessons that I know so well. In this case: acceptance. We just have to accept the things we cannot change. Befriend the moment. Not live in a state of resistance to what is. 

Why is it so hard to put this simple lesson into practice?

Even that question misses the point. Whether it is hard or not does not matter. Unless we want to live in a constant state of inner tension, we simply have to do it. Cease to resist, surrender, whatever you want to call it. Always in the present moment, over and over again. 

The reason my tonsure bothers me is, I guess, vanity - it's just not a good look. But that is actually ridiculous, it's been at least 15 years since my hair was something to be proud of. And even back then, I was sowing the seeds of suffering. Pride in one's appearance is an attachment to and identification with form, and now that the form is not what I wanted, I am annoyed. So now I have to accept not just my haircut, but also my annoyance too.