Blow out – Delight 23

When I woke up this morning and had only one thing on my schedule for the entire day, I thought the delight would be having this luxury of time—to be able to lounge in bed until it was time for my hair appointment. That was delightful, but…

Seated in my stylist’s chair draped in the cape after she trimmed my split ends, I felt the round brush gently scratch against my scalp and lift long strands of newly cut hair away from my head into the path of the hair dryer’s heat. THAT was the delight. The gentle cadence of wet hair being touched by the heat, section by section, was so relaxing that at times I closed my eyes.

When my stylist blow dries my hair, I think of it as an art form. Her precision with her instruments makes her blow drying’s rhythm feel like a form of meditation. It’s also like an embrace of sorts. Since I live alone, I am cognizant of the lack of physical touch I experience. Hair cuts and pedicures have become welcome opportunities to connect with other people. Sitting under the gentle shhh-shing of the blow dryer was a delightful act of self-care. Of focused attention on me for just a few minutes. A refilling of the tank, so to speak. A boost to the ol’ self-esteem.