We color, we pluck, we wear hats. As with so many other things, we try so hard to be what we are not. We run from ourselves … we run from our pain, our sexuality, our intelligence, our soul … and our age. Is it a fear – a realization – that our days here are numbered? Of that I have no doubt. But perhaps those strands remind us, too, of what we didn’t do, f the dreams we held in our hearts years ago and that we surrendered to what others told us we ‘should’ be. And we are running from that remembrance. Maybe the gray is to serve as a reminder that we were created exactly as we were meant to be. That the All of Who We Are was placed within us for a reason, and this life has been a gift. Even more-so, perhaps the grays are to remind us to not let the song end without dancing to the music in our heart.

I am grateful for my years. They’ve not all been easy … heavens no. Many have been extraordinarily difficult and challenging. But they are mine, as are these beautiful new hairs. All of the experiences I’ve had, all of the people I’ve met, all of the joy and the heartbreak – they are all mine. They make me who I am. They’ve taught me dear lessons, and taken me on journeys of the heart, mind, and soul.  I have earned these silver ribbons. I am proud of them, and they are my reward. It is a precious reward. It is mine, and it is me.


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