Owen has an alter ego. He first told me about him two years ago in a confidential interview. His name is Ace. He has brilliantly scarlet hair. He wears a long fitted black jacket, boots an elfin bow and a broad sword. He is outgoing and graceful, athletic and fearless. Owen told me that whenever he spins circles in the back yard he is being Ace in a richly imaginative world, complete with monsters to battle and epic challenges to overcome. Owen has been wanting vibrant red hair for a year now and I have always said no. In order to dye his gorgeous locks, one first needs to remove that rich walnut hue with bleach and then lay some red color on top of that. It doesn't last long and it's pricey. Owen finally said, "Mom, I feel like I need to be more like the me inside of me. I want to dye my hair." Well who am I to stand against self expression and so yesterday, while at the Italian Festival in Belmar we wandered into the Paul Mitchell School and Owen and Ace united in expression.
When everything looks bleak and the darkness cramps against the cold, it takes courage to simply look out from imagined isolation toward the wide horizon of beauty available in every moment. It takes courage to lean into the sea of life and trust the tide. When weary limbs no longer support us, it takes courage to trust our inner buoyancy and float. It takes courage, in the face of darkness, to remember the light and sit in all our apparent blindness and listen, silently, to the still, small whisper within. It takes courage, in that dark hour, when nothing else remains. Eyes closed. Eyes opened. A glimpse, a memory, a fleeting vision of a light so bright it blurs the borders of things seen and things perceived into a comprehensive wholeness of being. It takes courage.
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