Lately I have been more mindfully aware of the hair on the back of my neck. Not those little hairs that twitch when we're nervous, scared, angry or excited, but rather a soothing sensation of my hair reaching down past my neck, because I'm letting my hair grow after many years.
I actually like this sensation as a metaphor–the experience of something tickling the back of my neck, drawing my attention even if it's out of my sight or my conscious awareness. I might reach back and notice it's there, however subtle or unobtrusive it might be. And then suddenly, I am reminded of its presence, and of the meaning it has for me, or for other people.
Something as seemingly trivial as changing a hairstyle can engender interesting reactions from others as well as our own self awareness. We become so accustomed to our old familiar ways of doing things that even a small change can bring a sense of curiosity and newness. As a kid I liked to change things in my room periodically– move the furniture around, switch the posters from one wall to another, or swap items with a friend.
Where are we creatures of habit, and where in our lives do we welcome change? Do we prefer chosen change vs. imposed change? Are we clinging to comfort in the old familiar ways? What distress or delight might come with change?
What's tickling the back of your neck right now?
Invitation to Make a Grand Exit
I am waiting for the fear to fly out of my body.
How can I open the door, and graciously usher it
out?
For God’s sake,
what are the limits of hospitality?