A Girl With a Sword

on my baldness

I just found this poem in my old Riverside Anthology of Literature. I realize that it would have been more appropriate a couple months ago, but I want to put it up anyway.

"On His Baldness"
At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall;
At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall.
For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go . . .
They are all gone and I do not mind at all!
I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry;
My tiresome comb is forever lain aside.
Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet,
To have no top-knot weighing down one's head!
I put aside my messy cloth wrap;
I have got rid of my dusty tasselled fringe.
In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream,
On my bald pate I trickle a ladle full.
Like one baptized with the Water of Buddha's Law,
I sit and receive this cool. cleansing joy.
Now I know why the priest who seeks Repose
Frees his heart by first shaving his head.
by Po Chu-i

I'm getting around the writing this when I'm about ready to take my comb up again. I shaved my head at the end of February for no real reason except that I've wanted to for a long time. It was an interesting experiment. Of course it was accepted as pretty standard Covenant behavior, but going out into the world felt a little strange for a few weeks. I started thinking a lot about what connotations hair and the lack of hair have in society. The lack of hair is drastic, several people asked me if I had made a vow, and apparently the Covenant volleyball team was convinced I had a friend with cancer. In some ways shaving my head made me deal with my femininity more consciously than I had before. Gender is in such flux, it's almost hard to hold onto without hair. And I think Po Chu-i is right to a certain extent. There is a freedom that goes with the loss of hair, if not a repose.