Get a haircut

Get a haircut

That's what my grandmother used to nag:  "get a haircut".  She even took me to get my haircut without my mother knowing about it.  My hair has been bugging me again, for a couple of weeks now, and I've even put it on my to-do list, then put it off, then put it off again.

This morning, I finally followed through, masking up and heading over to the little shop up the way.  

Here's what it looked like when I got home, before I headed out for a walk in the warm morning.  It was already 83℉ when I went out to walk.  That's 28.3℃ for those of you who speak celcius.  I did not do jogging intervals.  

I made it safely around my park walk (1.67 miles) and home, at which point, I took my own scissors to trim the bangs, because she left them too long and I didn't notice until I was already home, and I did not want to go back.  You can see in the photo that they are challenging the glasses frames, and I guarantee they would have started driving me nuts within less than a week.

There, that's better!  Room to grow for a month or so!

Then we have the news

Whether we mention it or not, the news shadows our thinking.  I messaged my son yesterday afternoon to see how he was holding up.  Back when he was deployed, I attended several Yellow Ribbon events for the families of his Army Reserve unit, which had come under attack in 2009, right here on US Soil.  13 soldiers were killed, and another 32 injured in that incident.  One of the major lessons that came out of those sessions was that we don't have control over when the thoughts and memories and emotions hit us.  We should not try to avoid the thoughts, we need to face them, and deal with them, hopefully in a healthy way.

As the news came out of Kabul yesterday, my mind went back to that day, nearly 12 years ago, and my soul reached out in prayer for the support of hundreds of families who were going through what my fellow parents  and I went through that day.  Waiting for news is bad.  The joy in hearing that YOUR particular loved one is OK is touched by a sense of guilt that not every family got the same kind of news.  

In the process, you possess the knowledge that you are no more worthy than the person sitting next to you to get the joyful response.  Nothing you did merits that relief.  Once you get it, the best you can do from that point forward is to live to honor those who did not come home.

That is when the concept of "for whom the race is run" was born.  And it came to fruition in a blog I wrote leading up to my first Olympic distance triathlon, over four years later:  For Whom The Race is Run.  That's a live link.  I copied it over from Spark to my archive blog.  

Granted, the incident in the news is different from the one I lived through more closely.  For one thing, the current situation is ongoing, the risk is not over, done and dusted.  Prayers continue for the safety of so many as that evacuation mission comes to a conclusion.  Those soldiers, sailors, marines, and diplomats don't have time to stop and grieve, because they have a mission to complete.

Back here, we have much work ahead as evacuees, refugees, arrive here to "start over".  May we all have compassion for them, welcome them, help them as they helped our service members in their country, many at great risk to themselves and their families.

Now to the pep talk

Here's a photo from five years back that popped up in my memories over on Facebook... and I did a double-take.  Yes, that was me, accepting the 2nd prize for my age group.

So let's get out there and take care of ourselves, best we can, this one and only Friday, August 27, 2021 we will ever get!  NOT taking care of ourselves will not help anyone else.  

We can do this, we are worth doing it for.  Life is good!

Spark on.  ✨💖