Blissed out… or Oh Shite, I’ve got another essay due…

Over the years I have tried various ways to relax, collect my thoughts, achieve a sense of peace. In other words, meditate. I find a long soak in a bath particularly relaxing… Yes, I do have bubbles 🙂 But it has it’s drawbacks… First of all, I like to read in the bath… Not terribly easy to collect your thoughts or achieve peace when you are immersed in another world/time… and, because I don’t like the feel of drying bubbles on my skin, I always have a shower before I get out… refreshing and relaxing certainly but not meditative…

So I try meditation… I can’t seem to relax enough in the living room to be effective so I retreat to the bedroom… Again, a great place to relax and with the added bonus of being able to collect my thoughts but peace within myself is still difficult… Part of the problem, I think, is the use of music… Now over the years I have found and used various musical mixes that have helped me to relax but that are not so intrusive as to break my chain of thought (or lack thereof)… Part of the problem is that it’s the bedroom... As my Amazing Lone Support Angel has remarked more than once when I have announced I am off to meditate… “When do you want me to wake you?” :/ You see some times, even with the music on the edge of hearing, I do just fall asleep… Not exactly meditative really…

[What is all this drivel?]

{Oh, Sod Off You! I don’t need you butting in and derailing my thoughts.}


{Look, Just Fu[OK. Ok I’m going..]}

Now where was I? Oh yeah… here…

You may be wondering why I’m writing this… I know I certainly do whenever I write these things… but I feel I want to share this with you, right now… Tomorrow, I probably won’t want to but for now…

I am currently writing this in a slowly dissolving feeling of Bliss, contentment, peace and general all over loveliness… You see I’ve just returned from My Barber. The reason for the capitalisation and italics will, hopefully, become apparent as my tale progresses…

Now as someone with hair, I have on occasion had to have some of it removed… That shocked you didn’t it? There you were, picturing me as a long haired nerk or, at the very least, someone that uses a blunt knife to make a hole to see through… But no, I have been frequenting professional establishments for years… Not since my teens have I had my mop butchered by a relative… (and that gives you an insight into my romantic life during my teens)… anyway, all that aside, I have over the years tried numerous barbers, salons, hair “stylists”… and, of course, they have ranged from awful to average with the occasional “How did you do that? I can’t get it to do anything like that…” But each and every one of them have had some fault or other… Maybe it’s something as simple having the radio on the wrong (for me) station… Maybe it’s the cost… Maybe (because I once had hair almost to my arse) I didn’t feel I fitted into that particular salon… I don’t know if I’m alone in this but once my hair got past a certain length I didn’t feel welcome in Barber shops and started frequenting predominantly female oriented salons… I don’t know, maybe I thought they knew more about long hair and I wouldn’t look up to see a crew cut and a grumpy old git going on about “bloody hippies”…

But no longer! I have found my Holy Grail.

[Didn’t this start out as a blog about meditation?]

{O FFS! Did I tell you to…}

[Yeah, but hang on… this was about meditating and now it seems to be about getting your barnet trimmed… what happened?]

{It’s all related, if you must know. Why don’t you just wait for the rest of it before you start getting snarky?!}

[I was saying…]

{Fuc… [I’m going!]}

One of my quirks is that I don’t like talking while getting my hair cut. This can be particularly difficult if I frequent a “traditional” barbers… Because one of the first things you will hear from a barber (after the usual, “just a trim sir?”) is going to be along the lines of “So, what did you think of the (insert sporting event here) last night?”… As most of you know, I am about as sporty as a porcupine with sciatica… and this extends to watching sport (beyond the Rugby Union Internationals) so trying to tactfully tell someone that I don’t follow sport is usually filled with ten minutes of said barber trying various “chat” options… Job? Holiday? Married? Favourite shade of Lemon squash?… All of which will be answered with monosyllables… The rest of the session will then be spent in silence with me feeling as though the barber is glaring at the back of my head and the desire to rush out as fast as possible…

A predominantly female oriented establishment does tend to keep the chat to a minimum, particularly when I give in to my uncontrollable need to close my eyes… and yes, it is uncontrollable… I’ve tried sitting there with my eyes open, I’ve even tried engaging in a conversation if the topic is interesting enough… but with the inevitability of sunset, my eyes will drift shut… But more often than not I have felt like an intruder… I feel as though I am tolerated for my custom but not particularly welcome… When I was younger, I would receive compliments about my hairs length, thickness and general good health but it always sounded to my my ears as though it was tinged with just a touch of jealousy… Again, I felt like I just had to get out as fast as possible…

Now here is why this garbage has shifted from meditation to hairdressing… As I said earlier, I’ve just returned from My Barbers… This place opened about 9 months ago, just around the corner from where I live… It’s one of two barbers/five hair salons in a small parade of shops… I have tried each of the others in the time I have lived in the area but never twice… This place I’ve been to four times already… and introduced a friend to… I don’t always get the same barber, as it appears to be a family run business with everybody helping out to get it off the ground, but every time it is the same experience… I am greeted warmly and directed to the chair with the question “the usual?”… obviously I didn’t get that question the first time I visited but every time since… I sit and remove my glasses, while the various tissues, towels and apron thingies are tucked in place and secured… Then, with a final smile from the person wielding the scissors I let my eyes drift closed… What follows is upwards of an hour of meticulous snipping, trimming, singeing, washing, styling, drying, tidying-up and all the other mysterious things that go on around the back of the head… all done in complete silence with just the gentlest of touches to reposition my head for ease of access… As I said, it’s not always the same barber, but it is always the same experience… and, do you know what? I have finally found my perfect meditation.

Each and every time I come away from My Barbers I am filled with a sense of peace, contentment, relaxation… in other words Bliss.

Oh just as an extra, I should mention that this place also offers services that include tanning and various types of massage… (The reason my friend and I refer to it as The Brothel)… I must say that I am tempted…

I have a feeling though that if they can reduce me to a puddle of smiling jelly just by cutting my hair a massage may actually help me achieve Nirvana… Not something you want getting into papers really… Man dies from bliss overload in massage parlour

Anyway, that’s it. I’m finished now… You can all return to your infinitely more interesting lives while I go and enjoy the tail end of this heavy hippy moment…




One comment on “Blissed out… or Oh Shite, I’ve got another essay due…

  1. Pingback: 3 Euros and a Tip Box | inthewordsofnevyn

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