Cut

I really love to cut my hair.

Once my hairdresser told me: 

“If it is so, you MUST love to change!”

Do I love change? I don’t know

I would love to but it’s most like I’m not able to change.

And change what? 

Change haircut? Done. It’s fun, it’s quick. 

Do you want bangs? I don’t know, I’m not sure. Screw it… CUT. Bangs it is! Hair grows back. 

Change house? Done. It’s ok, it’s exhausting but it’s easy. I don’t get attached to rooms, furnitures, maybe plates, cups, vases, but not the house itself.

Change work? Done. It’s exciting, it’s inspiring… It gives you hope. It makes you feel proud of yourself. YOU made it.

Change country? Done. It’s amazing. It’s scary. It’s a leap of faith… 

When you ACTUALLY leave you feel something very similar to the feeling you get when you are in the pool and you move away from the edge. 

From that moment you have to go on, you have to start swimming to not sink.

You feel overwhelmed and at the same time, powerful. You’re your own superhero.

Does all this mean to change? Houses, haircuts, jobs, countries

Why do we have to move around to change? 

Why can’t we change ourselves by standing still?

You cut your hair, you move to a different country, you have new job, you live in new apartment… your life has changed but have you changed?

Are you a different person? 

The thrill of the change and the newness lasts the snap of a finger.

In the blink of an eye the beauty of change disappears.

Everything that is new is absorbed into what we are and what we are not able to change.

We just keep living our life with other people around, with different objects, in a different contest, with a new background. 

Changing is not lasting or permanent.