shaving my head
About 7 years ago; I went with two other friends to our cabin in the woods near Brinon, WA. First of all a little history of our cabin. We share it with 12 other families. And no it is not a time share. We all pay monthly dues; and build our own personal equity which if we sell our share, then we have a bench mark price of how much to sell it to a potential future owner. But most of the members pass along their membership to their offspring before the split the planet.
We have annual business meetings; because we are a non- profit organization and need to follow certain laws.
The real juice of this cabin is how did it start. Well a priest named Tom and a nun named Pat; grew tired and frustrated with the Catholic restraints. They were very loving folks who wanted a spiritual retreat to experience in a calm setting. The camp is on 20 acres of land next to a calm flowing River that is in the Summer 45 degrees and yes I swim in it every summer and have a blast.
So they found some land purchased it and started their own retreat center. It comprised of a bunch of Hippies cutting loose in the 60's. The energy at this Camp is as Rich said has a deep rich spiritual tone to it. It was called Pooh camp...named simply serene. This very weekend I am going there with Rich to an annual Fall work party; that I wouldn't miss for the world...the love and grace these people exude is contagious and I don't want to miss out on their company.
So here I am 8 years ago and for the first time at Pooh Camp without my family and just my 2 girl friends. I was in a space for myself of leaving my own ritualistic experience of church and was open to revisiting something from my world as Barbie O'Neal (my maiden name).
Into day two of our weekend one of the ladies brought a joint....and yes we got high. First time in 20 years.
I began to run around in the woods naked and felt like a deer; jumping and leaping. I even went to the river and drank from it. I did have a very different experience than the other women. Yet they too were howling at the moon like a wolf...Star (the gal I rode up with) brought her dog and I was certain that dog was communicating with me and I knew exactly what she said to me.
So then the mania came forth and that joint definitely ushered me into it. I lay awake all night long while Star and Jenny slept...I went on the deck with my sleeping bag trying to sleep nothing worked. Then I did the dreaded thing a person in mania should ever do....I looked in the mirror and stared at myself and wondered if that was really me on the shelf (Elton John) . So I began to have a dialog with myself about myself.
Going back about 30 years in time; my father Ed O'Neal died of cancer when I was a freshman in High School. I ran track during his Chemotherapy and my world in Track and Cross Country is what gave me the endurance and strength to endure such pain in my emotional world. Well one day at my track practice I was doing the regular workout with my team and my dad shows up to watch me. Well; I was shocked; because he did not warn me and my dad was withering away with the cancer eating him and alive and the Chemo removing all his wonderful full head of grey hair that was smartly cut into the traditional crew cut...fifties style. I recall playing barber shop with him and I would take my preschool scissors and cut his hair...it was our little game we played when I was about 4-5 years old. Sweet memory with my Daddy.
So here he shows up so skinny his pants barely stay up and he was standing in the bleachers. I believe if he were healthy I would have been fine with him being there. I kept running and completely ignored his presence. Then the dreaded thing happened...yes the moment of shame. where I wanted to hide into a hole and somehow end up in my nicely decorated pink room with the canopy bed and the soft pink carpet.
Well one of my team mates came to me and whispered, "Who is that old man up there" Holy Shit...I have been found out...because I knew I was going to have to leave this field and go home with this "old man".
Damn it no way out for me...Hoping desperately that my normal looking brother Kenny would show up on the scene and I could be escorted out of practice with him...During that time my Daddy was too sick to drive.
I kept running faster than ever before and wishing this moment would come to a finish...I knew exactly how I wanted it to end I wished that Old Man would simply disappear, vanish. But no he lingered...yes at the gate of the track field...NO No no...not only did I have to go home with him but all my track team was going to go past him as well...So I decided to be the very last one to emerge from the field...that way every one would go home and no one would know this old man was my father.
Then a fresh breeze floated in gently and gave me a small measure of peace. My coach did the most loving thing he could have done to my father and he spoke to him...I am sure to my coach it was obvious what was happening to my dad. He was one of the many suffering from Chemo and Cancer. I still believe it was the strong dosage of Chemo that helped kill him.
But I was still hoping and praying Kenny would show up and I could go through the field and head the hell out of there. Luckily Coach kept talking with my dad. And Kenny showed up on the other side of the fence...I can still see Kenny in my memory and he was walking right along the other side of the fence...I shot for the gate and ran out and joined Kenny...thankfully coach was in deep conversation with my dad...I met up with Kenny and said let's go....well we had to wait for that old man...
The rest was a blur...but you get it shame and the pain of any normal teen age person.
Well, here I am at Pooh camp and revisiting this memory...I visited this memory many times never ever feeling good about it as an adult. I know I hurt my Daddy and I could never redo that day and hug him and tell him I adored him no matter what he looked like. Say to him he was the rock of our family. Say to him I miss you.
I am at the mirror as Barbie Gardner and finally figuring a way to finally put this memory to rest....One way out. Because for decades this memory haunted me and in this retreat with Star and Jenny I found a way out.
Yes, I was going to look as much as possible like my daddy...One thing I had on my face that none of my siblings had on their face...I thankfully had my daddy's nose. Big but straight. My mom had her Native American nose which was very big and had this hump in the middle. She never liked her nose. And I thankfully got my daddy's nose. I got enough of Betty's genes so I deserved a straight nose.
So looking at myself in the mirror I knew I could love my daddy through myself...after all he was living through me. I am his daughter. I am his legacy, no longer his little girl...I am the mother of his grandchildren that he never met. I am the woman who has bipolar like his wife. I am going to triumph over this memory and yes my mania is going to help me. This was my last ditch chance to love him through myself..I thought even if it didn't work...I am more than long brown hair. I am much more than beautiful long brown hair. I am a mother, a lover and a friend.
I came back from Pooh Camp telling Star of my plans and told her on the way home to take me to a barber shop; so I could get this done before I got home...Well, I was in her car and going home by her rules....She wanted nothing to do with this manic woman wanting to shave her head....
First thing I told my husband after being gone for the weekend, yep I am going to the barber shop to shave my head...Well Rich is always level headed and does research and carefully makes decisions in life...and he was keenly aware that shaving my head would have long term affects on not only me; but him and my children.
I just wanted to cut to the chase and get this over with...Rich persuaded me to wait one week and if I still wanted to shave my head he promised he would shave my head himself in the privacy of our own home in front of our family mirror.
I did not back down...Monday morning as we were a homeschooling family I did my normal routine; made breakfast ate with my 5 children and piled into our 15 passenger white van and went to the Homeschooling resource Center. Smartly named Home Education Exchange. All of us called itThe HEE. This was a place where my kiddos took wonderful classes with their friends; Jenny's 3 sons perfectly matched up to my boys' ages. They offered Spanish, Science, Math, a writer's workshop offered for children in over 10, PE, Geography, the most fabulous Art class on the planet taught by Jackie. And something my girls especially enjoyed which was Drama; taught by a very accomplished actress.
Life and times at the HEE was a wonderful adventure that our entire family will never forget....in fact in times of huge celebration we include our core friends of that society. For instance...Hannah (21) whom we kicked out of the homeschooling experience as she entered her freshman year of high school. Hannah is graduating from the University of Washington this Spring. We are so very proud of her and she even made the Dean's list last year. So when we have her graduation party at our home those friends will be invited to attend. It is always like a homecoming...and the families that still live in the area attend these celebrations..like Hannah's 21st birthday party. Hannah is a straight arrow...not interested in the drinking scene. Such a blessing she is to us as our 1st born. Thank you Hannah for being you!!!!
Now I will color you a picture of what the HEE facility was like...You first entered the office...much like any public school office but with very few staff. Some mom's volunteering to answer the phone and paid employees of the public school system...Terrific Trudy. She is the first warm and friendly face you see at the door when you first walk into the office. She also has taught PE...very healthy seasoned woman. Trudy smiles a lot and not only is physically fit but she is well read and knows her shit (as my 13 year old son Joseph uses to describe his Grandpa Tom). Then there is the administrator Mr. Jones. He is the core of the program he still works for the school district and he and his charming wife taught their own son Daniel..We were very blessed to have Daniel as a fellow student in the midst of our children's lives. He was a great example as a teen age boy that had his head on straight was smart, witty like his father and gentle in nature like his mother.
Even though I really wanted to get my head shaved that Sunday before I even unpacked my clothes from my retreat; I gave into my sweet lover's request. I waited one full week before doing this outrageous task. And I am very glad I gave into Rich...he was RIGHT ON in his advice.
I told everyone in my social world and everyone was abreast of what I was up to...luckily I no longer attended church and didn't have to explain to a whole congregation what I was doing and so forth and so on.
I only informed close neighbors and the lovely ladies at the HEE. One of the mom's (Kim) put it so well after I explained what I was about to do (just as I explained to YOU) Kim said you are cleansing yourself from a bad memory. So after a week of purging this shameful story and informing everyone in my social circle Rich did as promised and shaved my head.
Free at last...Free at last Praise God I am Free at last. This is how I felt. First, he took me to a 1/2 inch cut and said there is that enough...I said no...complete shave just as you would shave your face each and every day. Wow, what a feeling to touch my skull and feel the smoothness of my skin. Then the healing began. I looked in the mirror many days and held my face in my hands and told myself in the mirror....I love you daddy. Tears rolling down my cheeks then incredible laughter and release of emotions.
However; I did promise Rich I would never shave my head again. Now as you can see I again have long brown hair and no I don't dye it. I inherited my mother's gene of the Native American Indian and have natural tough roots. With my mothers genes I have the Bipolar disorder. Well, there you have it. My story of why I shaved my head. It was my therapy and it worked for me. I do still have the memory but it is in the recess of my mind and no longer a haunting memory that claims my cheer for life.
We have annual business meetings; because we are a non- profit organization and need to follow certain laws.
The real juice of this cabin is how did it start. Well a priest named Tom and a nun named Pat; grew tired and frustrated with the Catholic restraints. They were very loving folks who wanted a spiritual retreat to experience in a calm setting. The camp is on 20 acres of land next to a calm flowing River that is in the Summer 45 degrees and yes I swim in it every summer and have a blast.
So they found some land purchased it and started their own retreat center. It comprised of a bunch of Hippies cutting loose in the 60's. The energy at this Camp is as Rich said has a deep rich spiritual tone to it. It was called Pooh camp...named simply serene. This very weekend I am going there with Rich to an annual Fall work party; that I wouldn't miss for the world...the love and grace these people exude is contagious and I don't want to miss out on their company.
So here I am 8 years ago and for the first time at Pooh Camp without my family and just my 2 girl friends. I was in a space for myself of leaving my own ritualistic experience of church and was open to revisiting something from my world as Barbie O'Neal (my maiden name).
Into day two of our weekend one of the ladies brought a joint....and yes we got high. First time in 20 years.
I began to run around in the woods naked and felt like a deer; jumping and leaping. I even went to the river and drank from it. I did have a very different experience than the other women. Yet they too were howling at the moon like a wolf...Star (the gal I rode up with) brought her dog and I was certain that dog was communicating with me and I knew exactly what she said to me.
So then the mania came forth and that joint definitely ushered me into it. I lay awake all night long while Star and Jenny slept...I went on the deck with my sleeping bag trying to sleep nothing worked. Then I did the dreaded thing a person in mania should ever do....I looked in the mirror and stared at myself and wondered if that was really me on the shelf (Elton John) . So I began to have a dialog with myself about myself.
Going back about 30 years in time; my father Ed O'Neal died of cancer when I was a freshman in High School. I ran track during his Chemotherapy and my world in Track and Cross Country is what gave me the endurance and strength to endure such pain in my emotional world. Well one day at my track practice I was doing the regular workout with my team and my dad shows up to watch me. Well; I was shocked; because he did not warn me and my dad was withering away with the cancer eating him and alive and the Chemo removing all his wonderful full head of grey hair that was smartly cut into the traditional crew cut...fifties style. I recall playing barber shop with him and I would take my preschool scissors and cut his hair...it was our little game we played when I was about 4-5 years old. Sweet memory with my Daddy.
So here he shows up so skinny his pants barely stay up and he was standing in the bleachers. I believe if he were healthy I would have been fine with him being there. I kept running and completely ignored his presence. Then the dreaded thing happened...yes the moment of shame. where I wanted to hide into a hole and somehow end up in my nicely decorated pink room with the canopy bed and the soft pink carpet.
Well one of my team mates came to me and whispered, "Who is that old man up there" Holy Shit...I have been found out...because I knew I was going to have to leave this field and go home with this "old man".
Damn it no way out for me...Hoping desperately that my normal looking brother Kenny would show up on the scene and I could be escorted out of practice with him...During that time my Daddy was too sick to drive.
I kept running faster than ever before and wishing this moment would come to a finish...I knew exactly how I wanted it to end I wished that Old Man would simply disappear, vanish. But no he lingered...yes at the gate of the track field...NO No no...not only did I have to go home with him but all my track team was going to go past him as well...So I decided to be the very last one to emerge from the field...that way every one would go home and no one would know this old man was my father.
Then a fresh breeze floated in gently and gave me a small measure of peace. My coach did the most loving thing he could have done to my father and he spoke to him...I am sure to my coach it was obvious what was happening to my dad. He was one of the many suffering from Chemo and Cancer. I still believe it was the strong dosage of Chemo that helped kill him.
But I was still hoping and praying Kenny would show up and I could go through the field and head the hell out of there. Luckily Coach kept talking with my dad. And Kenny showed up on the other side of the fence...I can still see Kenny in my memory and he was walking right along the other side of the fence...I shot for the gate and ran out and joined Kenny...thankfully coach was in deep conversation with my dad...I met up with Kenny and said let's go....well we had to wait for that old man...
The rest was a blur...but you get it shame and the pain of any normal teen age person.
Well, here I am at Pooh camp and revisiting this memory...I visited this memory many times never ever feeling good about it as an adult. I know I hurt my Daddy and I could never redo that day and hug him and tell him I adored him no matter what he looked like. Say to him he was the rock of our family. Say to him I miss you.
I am at the mirror as Barbie Gardner and finally figuring a way to finally put this memory to rest....One way out. Because for decades this memory haunted me and in this retreat with Star and Jenny I found a way out.
Yes, I was going to look as much as possible like my daddy...One thing I had on my face that none of my siblings had on their face...I thankfully had my daddy's nose. Big but straight. My mom had her Native American nose which was very big and had this hump in the middle. She never liked her nose. And I thankfully got my daddy's nose. I got enough of Betty's genes so I deserved a straight nose.
So looking at myself in the mirror I knew I could love my daddy through myself...after all he was living through me. I am his daughter. I am his legacy, no longer his little girl...I am the mother of his grandchildren that he never met. I am the woman who has bipolar like his wife. I am going to triumph over this memory and yes my mania is going to help me. This was my last ditch chance to love him through myself..I thought even if it didn't work...I am more than long brown hair. I am much more than beautiful long brown hair. I am a mother, a lover and a friend.
I came back from Pooh Camp telling Star of my plans and told her on the way home to take me to a barber shop; so I could get this done before I got home...Well, I was in her car and going home by her rules....She wanted nothing to do with this manic woman wanting to shave her head....
First thing I told my husband after being gone for the weekend, yep I am going to the barber shop to shave my head...Well Rich is always level headed and does research and carefully makes decisions in life...and he was keenly aware that shaving my head would have long term affects on not only me; but him and my children.
I just wanted to cut to the chase and get this over with...Rich persuaded me to wait one week and if I still wanted to shave my head he promised he would shave my head himself in the privacy of our own home in front of our family mirror.
I did not back down...Monday morning as we were a homeschooling family I did my normal routine; made breakfast ate with my 5 children and piled into our 15 passenger white van and went to the Homeschooling resource Center. Smartly named Home Education Exchange. All of us called itThe HEE. This was a place where my kiddos took wonderful classes with their friends; Jenny's 3 sons perfectly matched up to my boys' ages. They offered Spanish, Science, Math, a writer's workshop offered for children in over 10, PE, Geography, the most fabulous Art class on the planet taught by Jackie. And something my girls especially enjoyed which was Drama; taught by a very accomplished actress.
Life and times at the HEE was a wonderful adventure that our entire family will never forget....in fact in times of huge celebration we include our core friends of that society. For instance...Hannah (21) whom we kicked out of the homeschooling experience as she entered her freshman year of high school. Hannah is graduating from the University of Washington this Spring. We are so very proud of her and she even made the Dean's list last year. So when we have her graduation party at our home those friends will be invited to attend. It is always like a homecoming...and the families that still live in the area attend these celebrations..like Hannah's 21st birthday party. Hannah is a straight arrow...not interested in the drinking scene. Such a blessing she is to us as our 1st born. Thank you Hannah for being you!!!!
Now I will color you a picture of what the HEE facility was like...You first entered the office...much like any public school office but with very few staff. Some mom's volunteering to answer the phone and paid employees of the public school system...Terrific Trudy. She is the first warm and friendly face you see at the door when you first walk into the office. She also has taught PE...very healthy seasoned woman. Trudy smiles a lot and not only is physically fit but she is well read and knows her shit (as my 13 year old son Joseph uses to describe his Grandpa Tom). Then there is the administrator Mr. Jones. He is the core of the program he still works for the school district and he and his charming wife taught their own son Daniel..We were very blessed to have Daniel as a fellow student in the midst of our children's lives. He was a great example as a teen age boy that had his head on straight was smart, witty like his father and gentle in nature like his mother.
Even though I really wanted to get my head shaved that Sunday before I even unpacked my clothes from my retreat; I gave into my sweet lover's request. I waited one full week before doing this outrageous task. And I am very glad I gave into Rich...he was RIGHT ON in his advice.
I told everyone in my social world and everyone was abreast of what I was up to...luckily I no longer attended church and didn't have to explain to a whole congregation what I was doing and so forth and so on.
I only informed close neighbors and the lovely ladies at the HEE. One of the mom's (Kim) put it so well after I explained what I was about to do (just as I explained to YOU) Kim said you are cleansing yourself from a bad memory. So after a week of purging this shameful story and informing everyone in my social circle Rich did as promised and shaved my head.
Free at last...Free at last Praise God I am Free at last. This is how I felt. First, he took me to a 1/2 inch cut and said there is that enough...I said no...complete shave just as you would shave your face each and every day. Wow, what a feeling to touch my skull and feel the smoothness of my skin. Then the healing began. I looked in the mirror many days and held my face in my hands and told myself in the mirror....I love you daddy. Tears rolling down my cheeks then incredible laughter and release of emotions.
However; I did promise Rich I would never shave my head again. Now as you can see I again have long brown hair and no I don't dye it. I inherited my mother's gene of the Native American Indian and have natural tough roots. With my mothers genes I have the Bipolar disorder. Well, there you have it. My story of why I shaved my head. It was my therapy and it worked for me. I do still have the memory but it is in the recess of my mind and no longer a haunting memory that claims my cheer for life.
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