Rumpled Braid

She patted my shoulder and leaned in close, with a firm, pressed smile in her rosy face. "Excuse me," she said.

Startled, I pulled down my glasses instead of my headphones, to hear her. When responding to spontaneous strangers, I feel the pressure to pick one action and stick with it. You know, like saying, "You too" to someone who said, "Thanks". Yeah, I don't know anyone who's discovered a way to remedy these passing social pressures. And either way, you're going to kick yourself, whether or not you try to right the situation.

"Can I just tell you," her hand pressed onto my shoulder, she was unusually close, but not threatening or uncomfortable. I tried to imagine what she wanted to tell me. There was definitely a "dear" vibe. Her physical impression was too strong for a passing warning, or 'I know your mother' conversation.

So, there I sat, inches away from her face, glasses pulled down to the tip of my nose, peering up blindly, eyebrows arched cluelessly. "You have the prettiest hair," she said definitively. The man accompanying her looked on approvingly. She patted my shoulder again, as I feebly thanked her, and they walked out the door.

For a moment, I paused my work and listen flow. Last night, I took a shower and braided my hair before bed, so it would turn out in, at least, some sort of predictable mess the next day. This morning when I went out to our local greasy spoon to eat grease and use free WiFi, I assumed no one would notice my hair . And, being in my own neighborhood, didn't care. Well, I guess it just goes to show. One woman's rumpled braid is another woman's adoration.

It is no small task to be yourself, though for some it's merely morning laze. But this is the greatest gift you can give. Share your light and joy with the world around you. Prepare for the best in the universe's smiling reflection, and fear not the worst. Have a meaningful holiday everyone.