Ummm, so how can I control my life when I can’t control my hair? If a ‘hair style is the final tip-off whether or not a woman really knows herself’ (Givenchy), then perhaps I’m going to have to dig deep in the next few days or weeks to get to know myself and how my hair works.

Fascinatingly, my hair days are generally a solid reflection of myself. Good hair day – all is well in Krystyna-land. Bad hair day – I’m as frazzled as my hair is frizzled. How is it that this works so accurately?

Last week I went to Wizard Training Camp to hone my manifestation skills, etc. I had a great time, enjoyed the processes, the fresh air, and the company of the fine, illuminated beings that were there. I’m still working to make sense of my paradigm shifting week off the grid.

Anyway, got my hair cut in Vancouver after the camp and in my sleep deprived, somewhat delirious state, I stated to my stylist that I trusted him to cut & color my hair to the best of his ability – after giving him my guidelines for what I expected. Interestingly, I feel asleep during the haircut portion of my appointment.

Fast forward a couple days when I finally wash my hair and realized that the poofyness of my hair wasn’t so much from the styling products scrunched into my hair, or a residual effect from the best day ever at Kits beach but because my hair was cut was far shorter and more layered than I realized – aaack. In other words, my current head of hair is utterly unmanageable!

Not surprisingly my week looks a lot like my hair – the color is lovely, but the style is a mash between bed head & insane asylum – and my week has been fun and filled with delightful people, but I feel weary & confused. Perhaps as I’m integrating my learning’s from last week, the chaos of my life (& hair) is surfacing only to be smoothed out in the near future where my purpose will make more sense (and my hair will be better than ever).

I trust my hair. I trust the universe.