This morning I got my hair cut. I don’t usually like getting my hair cut. I never know if I’ll recognize myself afterwards. I also never have this wellness feeling that people describe. To me it always feels like an appointment. Except for today. I had recently discovered a small hairstylist just around the corner from my place. It’s called ‘the hair garden’. That in itself sounds magical already. But it also looks that way: Simple, yet elegant. Playful, yet peaceful. A small arrangement of delicate flowers in the window. A little oasis of slow.
I entered the elevator, pressed -7 and went down seven floors. It took me a while to actually descend. I could see my body go down, but I wasn’t there myself. I mean my brain, my consciousness were still up at 0. I tried again, and again, until it worked. Finally I descended, all of me. Slowly, going down to -7.