Interrupting the Pattern
I’ve been growing my hair out since last year’s shutdown began.
I had it trimmed once, just to even it out, but it’s longer now than it’s been in forever. Since my wedding in ’08, I think. And even then I whacked it off as soon as the wedding was over.
Now, I’m not loving it, mind you. I have a very small window of okay-with-my-hair-ness. But, y’know, COVID, and also I wear a lot of hats.
“So then why,” you may ask, “are you growing it out if you don’t like it?”
For a long time I wasn’t really sure. At first, I think it was just a symbol of the weirdness that 2020 was. It seemed like the world was chaos and madness, why not cross the line with the cheveux?
Now that it’s long enough to get in my way, to get tangled, to need attention I’m recognizing that I’ve been doing it as a kind of pattern interrupt. Something that gets me out of my expectations of how things should be. Breaks up a routine, forces me to be present.
Also, I have a lot of routines. Which isn’t a problem in and of itself, only I tend to get attached to them. Like, really attached. (Pluto in the sixth.)
What I eat, how I sleep, the checklist of little things I do to prepare for my day. Then the one as I get ready for bed. Sometimes I drive myself up a wall with it all. (Aries rising…)
So once in a while I have to do something nutty that kicks me out of that pattern, just to see who I am under it all…
A few weeks ago on the way home from a day trip the car broke down and our out-and-back excursion became an overnight stay. We had the late-night blessing of a hotel room, but none of the other little things that allow us to sleep comfortably through the night.
Neither of us slept very well, for sure, and the lack of my accustomed supplementation was acutely felt, but the unexpected adventure was a gift in many ways.
For one thing, we were up early. Unheard of in our household these days. We were right on the river, and the morning was just slightly foggy and crisp. We made a lovely connection with the owner of a coffee roaster across the street — then later realized she and I had worked together when a show I toured with had come through there fifteen years earlier.
We had an extra day of walks and bird watching and just hanging around with nothing to do. We came to realize it’s somewhere we’d like to live, and are considering relocating in the next year or two.
There was pain to it, but it was also kind of magical.
Interrupting our habits and patterns forces us to be present to life. To pay attention. To show up. It causes our brains to rewire and become more resilient.
Our habits and patterns can become who we think we are over time. Which pillow we use, which side of the bed we sleep on, which glass we drink out of. When we know what comes next it sometimes lulls us into a trance. We’re looking at our phone, not noticing what’s in front of us.
Nothing wrong with routine, mind you. Mindful discipline can be a meditative act. In some cases of acute trauma, a routine is often a soothing, helpful, therapeutic tool.
But when we consciously choose to shake things up, this can open a door for creativity that would otherwise be unavailable to us. We perceive things differently, we know ourselves differently.
A pattern interrupt can be any number of things. In fact, most of them take a lot less time than growing out your hair.
Staying up all night can be a pattern interrupt, or getting up before the sun. Sleeping on the opposite side of the bed. Walking backwards through your house. Eating with a spoon instead of a fork. These can all fit the bill.
We are in a period in our history of ongoing interruptions of what we assumed would always be. 2020 was a massive collection of these that continues to unfold in our collective (and individual) psyche. National and individual identities have come into question as we are asked over and over again to reevaluate who we think we are, and how we want to show up in the world.
It’s a period of chaos, hardship, divisiveness, certainly. But it’s also a time of creativity. A doorway to rewire our collective nervous system for greater resilience. For greater integration and collective vision.
And this great interruption is going to be assimilated slowly by the collective. It’s going to be a while before we figure out who we are, and who we want to be.
We’re going to have to be patient. We’re going to have to exercise our compassion muscles. Because this interruption isn’t something we can control.
But we can choose who we want to be as we digest it.
So maybe that’s why growing my hair out makes sense, at a deeper level. Because, like the changes slowly manifesting in the world, it does take time. And I’m not always happy with it. But it’s fascinating, and kind of fun, and I get to play with a different facet of my identity. And I can always change it.
As always, there’s an invitation here. Maybe you’d like to ask yourself, ask your heart, where you could use a bit of a shake up. Is there a place where a routine could be skipped, altered, heightened?
Is there something that could give you some distance from who you think you are?
I invite you to play with it. Just play. See what you discover, and what creation reveals itself in the process. You might notice nothing at all, but then again it could be a little bit magical.
Would love to hear what you discover in the comments!
