I realize this is a meditation moment. I sit down in the sunken living room next to the Tibetan prayer wheel by the fireplace, arranging myself into a lotus position. I breathe in gratitude for the cycle of seasons in New England, refusing to complain about record snowfalls, instead focusing on the preciousness of just this moment.
Why is it that women are forever coloring their hair -- curling, ironing, extending, feathering, crimping, pulling, twisting and bending it? I have a dear friend who, for the 26 years I've known her, has been trying to undo the curls she naturally has, while I have always coveted her spectacular head of curls!