The Bald-Faced Truth

I think probably the most surprising discovery of the year was not that ESAM is bald, that much should have been obvious to the studied observer. No, the most surprising discovery of the year is that we are, in fact, all bald, whether we know it or not. 

We are all living under a toupée in one way or another -- so terrified to be vulnerable that we cover ourselves up; so desperate to be loved that we hide behind layers of hair and make-up and fake smiles. Everyone's got a part of themselves that's thinning, changing, faltering. No one's perfect. We can live our lives being consumed by our insecurities, pretending that they don't exist, or we can wear them proudly - as boldly and bravely as a bald head. 

And is not a bald head the ultimate confession of vulnerability? There is no pretense,  no attempt to be anything other than what one is. There is beauty in this that I don't expect everyone to understand just yet, but the sooner you do, the sooner you can be freed from the burden of self-doubt.

I realize now that the signs of vulnerability, the signs of aging, are as pervasive and as transparent as ever because we try so desperately to hide them. We need to recognize that the only thing we all have in common is our mortality. I see the bald head as a symbol of that. It's not a flag of surrender, it's a refusal to play the game. It's a testament to the durability of the individual, the perseverance of the "I" against all odds. 

I stand here naked, not because I need to be, and certainly not because my wife asked me to do so, but as a statement of defiance. A statement of defiance against the "powers that be" that want to keep me clothed and ashamed of who I am.

If there is any secret to immortality, it is in this simple, bald truth: vulnerability is the cradle from which love arises. And once you recognize this truth, what purpose can there possibly be to life other than to love yourself and others as deeply as you possibly can? 

The game of mortality cannot be won, but there are better and worse ways of playing it. I choose to play it bald and hope others join me.  I choose to love myself without qualification and hope that doing so gives license to others to love themselves.

And when death finally comes for me, I will be laughing, for there will be nothing left of me to take that I haven't already given away to those I love.