The Stars Align...when you really need it. AKA Jesus Moment

For the last few months (I hate to admit) that I had felt lost.

Something had been missing and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  I didn't know what I needed.  I didn't know what would help.  All I knew was that something wasn't sitting right.

A trip home for the holiday had been planned months in advance and I was excited.  A holiday gathering of cousins was in the making at my planning and I was excited. Some much needed time off was around the corner and I was excited.  A workshop with me at the helm was on the table and I was excited.  And yet, I still felt lost. Something was missing

My ability to blog had gone out the window.  Who cares about my hair?  I stopped checking in to my favorite Silver Sister Forum.  They are all fabulous women with stories and I had nothing.  I was lost.

A boost of some sort was clearly needed but one that couldn't be asked for.

While home for my world wind trip through the holiday over and over I hear about the infamous Jesus Moment.  My sister has had them.  My cousins have had them.  I'm sure I have had them but just didn't know what to call it.

Then, out of no where it happens.  The thing I've long since given up hearing.  The thing that only happens to my other silver sister.  Acknowledgement.  Unadulterated, un-provoked acknowdelgement.  My own Jesus Moment

A cherished cousin approaches me well into a gathering of family and is in awe of my decision to go gray.   After a big, warm hug, I am applauded for being brave, for embracing the real me.  I'm told I have a new sex appeal.  I'm told I'm more real and approachable.  And best yet, they have been waiting to meet the real me.  I've been hidden and shy for too long.  They have met the real me and they love it.

The stars and cousins align when you need them most....

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Happy Anniversary to Me

At the end of August I arrived at the anniversary date of the last time I colored my hair.

Over the last few weeks I have tried to reflect on the past year.  What I have been through.  What this experience has meant to me and how it may have changed me.  All I keep thinking is...How do we define a year?  How do we measure it?

Technically its 12 months....52 weeks....365 days.  Wasn't this a leap year?  An extra day to transition.  Another day to measure.

Here are some of the ways I've measured my Year of Going Grayt

• A mirror.  Everyday, multiple times a day a mirror.  When a women begins her transition the mirror becomes like a drug and its not about vanity.  Its about curiosity, impatience, wonder and analysis.  A year equals really getting to SEEING yourself.   
• It is possible to measure a year with a ruler.  A ruler and, in my case, a patient, loving husband willing to measure my silvering roots.  A year equals six inches of silver.
• For some, this year can be measured in savings.  Less salon visits, no store bought dye.  For some, this year is measured in bonus money for NEW SHOES and MORE NEW SHOES.
• How about measuring it in time saved?  Two plus hours every month not hiding out in the bathroom chemically destroying our hair.  A dye free year equals gaining 24 hours.  In a leap year I actually gained two days.
• Can we measure a year in shampoo?  NoPoos, Blue Shampoos, Organic, Clarifying...A year equals 4 bottles of shampoo.
• Finally, photo documentation.  One year = 169 root shots.

For me I will measure this year in the confidence I have gained by being a more natural self.  I will measure it in the treasured friends and cohorts who have held my hand through the questions, the skunk stripe, the severe impatience.  And, I will measure it in those six inches of joyfully silver strands.

One year down and shooting for a pre-New Years completion...
And with that completion, a transitional slideshow.

Sneaky Silvers

It has been awhile since I've been out here touting the benefits of going Grayt.  Its been awhile since I've felt the benefits of going gray.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in LOVE with my new silver locks.  I wouldn't change one strand.

Here is the thing.  Its a long process.  Its much longer than I anticipated.  In my mind it would take a year.  In about 30 days I will reach the 365 days with out color mark.  I still harbor about 3 inches of dried out, old color that I'm not willing to sacrifice because I love my long hair.

Its a long process.

For the last several months I've only been able to focus on the chemically induced, faded, dyed remnants of my former self.  Its all I see.  Take a photo of me and ask me what I see.  My friends say great hair, great smile, you look so darn happy.  I see straw.  Dried out, faded straw ends that need to go.

I won't turn back.  I won't color again.  These are facts deeply ingrained.  I'm on a mission but the mission has hit a block I hadn't prepared to encounter.  I was bored.

I was bored.  Very, very bored.  Until tonight.

Without forethought I nabbed my husband this evening to help me video our adorable chickens.  "Honey, I'll hold the peach and you get it on video!  Catch them going nuts"

My husband caught the chickens eating a peach.  He also caught his wife's sparkly silver hair.  Suddenly I think I can wait another few months.  Suddenly I'm over the hump.  Suddenly I have these cool silver streaks that would cost a fortune in the salon.

Its a process.  Its a long process.  Thankfully its no longer a chemically induced process.

A Ray of Sunshine

As mentioned earlier, the ninth month, for whatever reason, has been the most impatient.  My hair seems boring to me.  My hair doesn't seem to be growing out.  Nothing, in my view, is changing.  Until yesterday.

Yesterday was a beach day with friends.  Friends keenly aware and supportive of my transition.  One commented on my reaching the half-way-there mark.  Really?  I hadn't noticed!  One commented that a female co-worker had made the decision to go gray.  My friend gave her my blog info.  The gesture was a nice boost to my ego.

Then came the big ray of sunshine on my transition slump.  Someone I hadn't seen in several years happened to be at the beach and didn't recognize me at first.  When they did, the comment:  What SEXY hair!!!

Wow!  Someone thought my natural silver hair was SEXY!!!  I wish this glorious feeling on all my lovely Silver Sisters!!!  We should all be told our natural color is the most sexy.

 This photo is not from the beach outing but taken the same day.

Ninth Month Milestone - update

Here it is, the Ninth Month Milestone.  While I could have given birth to a baby in this time frame, it seems I can't quite give birth to a full head of silver locks.

Hey, I've made it this far.  There is NO STOPPING now.

5/16/2012
Addendum to my ninth month milestone.  For most the difficult period seems to be somewhere around month four or five of the transition.  Why, I don't know, but I seemed to sail through those months with a swift tail wind.

For the last two weeks I have have been at level 10 frustration with my hair.  There is zero intent to go back to coloring but I'm feeling SO OVER IT!  This morning I found myself pulling my hair straight up and out from my head to see if I could handle a chop of the old color.  Although I have about 4 inches of out-growth, I know chopping off the old color and going short would be a huge mistake for me.  My hair is just too fine and my patience to thin to spend hours a day styling and I know the end result would never make me happy.

It seems my only current options are to pull the hair back and hide the old color from my vantage point.  Looks like (for at least the next few weeks) I will be sporting a lot of ponies, braids and up-dos.

I've gotta just hang in...

Long Forgotten Thrill of Baby Steps

This week I have entered month 9 of my transition.  Hard to believe I'm this far along.  Hard to believe how much farther I have to go to reach my goal.

The last two weeks or so I've been in a slump of sorts and I didn't know why.  I hate every new picture of myself.  Even after a nice fresh haircut I hate looking in the mirror.  I've been happy with my hair up until now and I sailed through what was to be the difficult months (4 and 5 btw) of the transition period.  Its caused me to reflect back to the beginning.  Why was it so much easier when I started this journey?

This morning it came to me.  Its the baby steps.

A baby's first steps are so miraculous.  One little step is a celebration.  Two little steps amazing.  Walking the length of the coffee table without falling a feat.  The beginning is new, exciting and each step a momentous occasion.  And then eventually, the thrill wears off.  Walking across the floor is the expected, the norm.

The first baby steps of letting go of the color in a box was amazing.  Every we check the hairline.  We check for new growth.  A quarter inch is a feat. The next month we are at 1/2 inch of gray and its a celebration.  Each new quarter inch becomes an amazing, unexpected journey.

And here I am today.  The thrill has worn off.  I still love the new color of my hair but no longer is each quarter inch of growth exciting.  Its expected.  Its expected and its not happening fast enough.  I am growing impatient. Imagine that.  Me, Mrs I want it NOW, impatient.

It will pass.  I know it will.  A new form of baby step thrill will find its way into this journey and I will again embrace it.  But for now I'll just keep plugging along.

The start of month 9

Helping others is no gray area

I am humbled by those willing to go out on a limb, those willing to sacrifice for others.

In roughly one week a courageous, lovely, thoughtful woman is going to shave her head in the name of childhood cancer.  There are not many people willing to go bald for a cause, even a good cause such as this.

When I started this blog it was about being natural, being real, being authentic.  I don't think it gets much more real and authentic than the willingness to shave your head in the name of childhood cancer.

Jean Rabenhorst, my dear, caring cousin, needs all of our support in her effort to raise money and awareness for childhood cancer.  Please, please help in her efforts and make a contribution, whatever size, to St Baldricks - Jean Rabenhorst

Love you Jean!  We are all behind you, girl!

A funny thing happened on the way to going gray...

Last year in the Spring, I made the "radical" decision to go naturally gray and stop dying cold turkey.  I was tired of the fight and more importantly, ready to see what was under all those years of color in a box.  The only thing stopping me at the time was my upcoming wedding in July.  I wasn't ready to look like a skunk walking down the isle.  It would have to wait until August for the transition to begin.

It is now eight months into my transition.

Looking back, I see that much more than I expected has come out of this transition.  No longer is this just about my hair.  This transition has become about a lifestyle, a more natural, back to nature, real life.

In August I sold my cute little car and I now travel by a more fuel efficient scooter.  (In the 8 months I've had the scooter I've spent about $60 in gas.  Not too shabby).  The scooter was not intended to be my primary mode of transportation.  It JUST happened.

Last summer I began a hydroponic garden.  This is Florida and you can't grow jack in the sand.  Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with basil, oregano, sage and rosemary.

Last summer I started to compost.  Why am I throwing so much away when I can give it back to the earth when I can make my sandy soil more nutrient based?  I don't know how this happened.  It JUST happened.

Last summer I adopted a feral cat colony living behind my office.  When I say adopted, I didn't bring them home.  I've just made a pledge to get them spayed and neutered and see to it they have food and water.  This little group of silly strays adopted me and it JUST happened.


I've talked about it for 8 months and now another thing has happened.  Last week, how appropriately for Easter, I came home with four baby chicks.  Four little Easter peeps.  I am an organic chicken farmer.  It JUST happened.

Its time to embrace who I am and I have and I will continue to do so.  Gray is the new me.  Authentic is the new me.  Real is the new me.  I am the new me.

Ad NONsense

When I began this blog several months ago I was completely new to the seen.  I had never blogged, I wasn't completely sure just exactly what blogging was, although I had read one blog from an old grade school friend.

As I worked my way through the process of setting up the blog and understanding its workings and intricacies I found it made quite a bit of sense.  I was up and blogging in no time.

Then I learned of what I now (not so affectionately) call, NONsense.  The Blogger.com powers that be have created a way for us bloggers to make a buck and they call it AdSense.  Allow ads to appear on your blog and when people click through the blogger makes a penny here and there.  I was a sucker.  I wanted that penny.

Here is the nonsense.  The Ad-sense program selects frequent "topical" words appearing in the blog to post what they deem "appropriate" target ads.  Sounds good so far, right?  If the ads are to target MY readers, My readers wanting to go GRAY, why is it that 90% of the ad appearing in the blog are to COVER, DYE and ELIMINATE GRAY?

This isn't AdSense....its pure NONsense.

I am overwhelmed.
Completely and utterly overwhelmed.

Recently I joined a "going gray" chat and it was glorious, in the beginning.  I loved each and every woman.  I loved each and every story.  I connected with these lovely women.  I related to these women.  They were my soul sisters.

None of my feelings towards them have changed.  They are still my soul sisters and I still love their stories, their journeys.  But here is what I have realized about me...as much as I care for these ladies, I care for me and my family more.

I no longer have time to keep up with the 1000 plus ladies.  I love them and I wish them well and, of course, an easy journey.  But I must focus on my own family, my own friends.

I hope these ladies allow me to check in periodically but for now, this is my only outlet.

Blondes have more fun?

Brunettes are more serious?

Red heads are fiesty?

Gray haired granny?

Looking back at my life thus far, I've had much more fun as a brunette than as a blonde.  As a blonde I was quite sad and insecure. My red headed days were no more feisty.  If anything, I'm more feisty as gray.  And, as a brunette I was never THAT serious.  Doesn't it then stand to reason that turning gray will NOT make me a granny? 

It is now seven months into my journey and it is repeatedly heard that going gray will make one look old.  Most times its easy to shake off.  The color of my hair does not define my age.  Most times.

Today was a weak moment.  Will I look old?  Will the color of my hair age me?

Moments ago I stood in front of the bathroom mirror.  Hair pulled back in a pony for the day.  I stare at the face.  I stare at the hair line.  Back to the face.  Back to the hairline. Back to the face.  Back to the hairline. They are two very separate units for the first time ever in my life.  Its almost as though I can separate my face from my hair like Legos in my psyche.  

The color of my hair does not age me.  It has zero effect on my athleticism, my sense of style, my energy, my outlook on life.  My gray hair does not age me.  My gray hair is just another shade in the hair color wheel of my life.

The Return of Hair

Mine is not in any way an overnight journey.  At the beginning of March I will be seven months into what I expect will be a 15 to 17 month adventure.  Its still early in the game and I am surprised and sometimes amazed at the process.

This morning the surprise presented itself as a little forest of silver spouts waving in the breeze that passed over the top of my head. This wasn't the outgrowth of my previously dyed hair.  These were new little silver soldiers standing at attention!  This is not an overnight journey yet seemingly overnight I have all these new little hairs?  A sneak attack of new hair. Hair that should have been on my head all along had I not chosen the path of chemically induced color.

I've missed my thick hair and wrongly assumed it was leaving my side do to aging.  I was forcing it out with chemical warfare!

I apologize to my scalp and my hair for the years of torture and I'm ridiculously thankful for your return.  It is my promise to be  kinder and more gentle to my new found (and old) follicles!

More and more gray areas

In my life I have never been a BLACK and WHITE kind of person.  Seemingly that should make me a person with a many shades of gray.  But it didn't.  There was never any gray.  Ever. My world has been filled with many tones and shades and hues of color.

My clothing choices are rarely as stark as black and white.  More often infused with bright, vibrant colors.

My hair, as a primary example has been many, many shades of color.  Blonde, brunette, bright red, auburn, chestnut, black.  But now, there are shades of gray.

My home.  The wall of my home are like an ever changing rainbow.  One year everything coral and creamy yellow, one year beach tones, one year jewel tones.  There are no black and whites.  Until now.

As the grays  and silvers invade my hair follicles, I've now noticed they are invading my kitchen.  In a very recent "re-do", the new stainless steel sink and silver flecked counter-top have made an appearance.  While hooking all the components together tonight I realized the kitchen would look so much better GRAY.

It really is becoming a gray area.

A Journey of Self Discovery

Recently, my lovely silver sisters from Cafe Gray have inspired me.  (Really, they have been an inspiration since I first discovered this amazing group of women back in September)  Most recently though they have unknowingly provided insight into who I am, who I am becoming.  Many of us, in sharing our thoughts, concerns, joys at the journey of going gray, are finding we share many of the same feelings and perspectives.

It turned into a journey of self discovery

•  As the more natural color that comes in, the more real and more true I feel, I am.  No more hiding behind a color.  I embrace the natural grays.  THIS IS ME!
•  I may not be young but I am NOT old and my hair color will not change that fact.
• This new color coming in is like watching time-lapse photography in process!  
• It has taught me patience, which for me is amazing.   The girl who has always wanted everything NOW has learned to sit back and enjoy the journey.  This is not an overnight, or over-week or over-month process.  I am six months into a likely 15 month test of time.

It changed into a science experiment.  I want a lab coat and beakers!

• Who knew each hair had its own rate of growth?  
• Who knew the line of demarcation would be this crazy zig-zaggy line?
• What new product will make me more sparkly?  
• Where did these little errant hairs come from?  
• Where are the big clumps of hair after I color?

As the days go by, I am finding answers to all these questions.  And, as the days go by I will share what I find with you.

Surprises

Superbowl Sunday.  We have an invitation to an awesome party with a guest list that includes my ex.  So much for going to the awesome party.  I could vent more on this but is best saved for another time.

Its 9am and I am running errands for our intimate at-home Superbowl party.  The phone rings.  My "wild hair" sister is asking if she can make reservations for two nights at my house.  "Of course!!!!  When do you want to come visit?"  The response, "I'm on the plane.  See you in 4 hours!"

Am I ridiculously excited?  Hell yeah!  Am I nervous that my non-gray, older sister is coming and will finally see my 2 1/2" strip of gray out-growth?  Hell yeah!

My sister has so often been my rock.  She is a marvelous support system.  A cheerleader when needed, a shoulder to cry on and the voice of reason when my reason has flown the coop.  But, she has never seen my gray hair!!!!

As promised, four hours later my sister pulls up into the drive.  Dog hugs, cat hugs, nephew hugs bro-in-law hugs and then...the sister hug.  Its so great to see her at my door I completely forget about anything but the fact that my sister has surprised me with an impromptu visit.  And then it happens.  She pulls back and gives me a look.  I know the look.  She is analyzing the hair.  The stripe.  The gray.

No doubt a split second that felt like several minutes and she smiles.  She loves the gray, the gradation, the salt and pepper, the process.  She is, again, my cheerleader, my voice of reason and my rock.

Sisters ROCK!  And I would not trade mine for anything, ever!

Whimsical Living

For most of my life I've considered myself a bit funky, and artsy.  For as long as I can remember, art has been a huge part of my existence.  From getting my "hand turkey" drawing in the School district art show in kindergarten to today, designing websites and logos and turning my house into a visual rainbow of color.

That said, my physical appearance has been very traditional.  I long to and occasionally manage channel Audrey Hepburn with a hint of Doris Day.

Since I appear more traditional, my funky artsy side comes out in leaps and bounds throughout my house.  Cozy but colorful, antique meets modern.

That said, I want to share a recent find.  If you are looking for some fun, delightful and funky glassware, check out:  Whimsical Living 

I recently broke the last of my old traditional wine glasses and went on a search for new.  Since I was given several bowls from Whimsical Living as a wedding gift it seemed like the perfect place to start.

Check it out!!!!

One of the many lovely designs found at Whimsical Living

Real People, My people

Ok, so I recently blogged about celebrities who have gone gray.  Most were faux gray and making some sort of fashion statement.

It is not my intent to make a fashion statement.  It is my intent to be more natural, more authentic and healthier by not putting excess chemicals into my system.  I'm proud of that.  I'm excited about that.

If I am going to look up to someone who has gone gray and looks great, I shall look up to people who matter to me.  You won't find any of these people in the tabloids but like me, they are authentic and honest about who they are and I love each of them.  These people are my inspiration.

Jess and Aunt Betty

The adorable Uncle John 

Uncle Felix and my mom, Felicia

Hang on to hope

For as long as I can remember, tulips have been my favorite flower. Delicate, bright and the sign of spring.  The end of a long cold winter.  Tulips give me hope for warmer days ahead.

During my tenure in Wisconsin my garden was bursting with tulips each spring. I always over planted knowing my furry little squirrel nemesis would dig out a percentage of bulbs.  They take a bite and then spit it out in disgust realizing the find was NOT a giant nut.

My eventual move to Florida, while a sun drenched blessing, was also a horticultural shock to the system.  Gone were all my familiar plants. My seasons.  Gone were my tulips.

Ten plus years in Florida and I have long since adapted to my new plant life.  I've grown to embrace it.  Understand it.  Yet I still miss my tulips.

Last Valentines Day my loving husband presented me with a lovely pot of tulips.  I loved them.  They were my connection to home, to hope, to new beginnings.  When the last flower wilted I couldn't let go.  I couldn't just toss the bulbs.  The little pink pot of bulbs was placed in the shed.

Every now and then I would notice the pot think about giving it a toss.  The idea of tulips growing in Florida was ridiculous but I like having hope.  The pot always stayed.

Today my husband and I were out working in the yard.  Somehow the little pink pot had been knocked down and he noticed it.  "Is this any good or should I just toss it?" He showed me the pot, dirt knocked out and tiny, green little sprouts peeking out.  TULIPS!  My sign of spring, the end of winter, a new beginning.  There is always hope!!!

Getting the stink eye...

I have seen it.  I have, no doubt, given it.  The dreaded "girl, you've got some serious roots showing" stink eye.

Tonight at the gym I was the recipient. I can no longer hide the 2 + inch skunk stripe. I've given up trying, especially at the gym where I go to work out and don't go to be "seen".

Monday is a step class filled with older, well coiffed, seriously dyed women. As I worked out on the elliptical, in walked the women for class.  Each a different shade of faux colorant.  Maybe it was partially my imagination but too many woman to ignore seemed to notice my stripe and stare just a bit too long.

Am I over-sensitive?  Maybe.  Probably.  But next time I see the stripe on someone else the "eye" they will be getting won't have a hint of stink.

Celbrities Dying to be GRAY

 

Keli, Lady Gaga and Kelly Osborne all have their hair DYED GRAY?  Maybe they've figured out that gray is the new black. 

And to think I can get it without the expense of the professional salon!