|Some pyramids I've collected, one glass two alabaster.|
Every time I visit Ian the barber for a trim we seem to have an even more interesting conversation than the last. In the past we've discussed the hardcore punk scene in Southern California; teenage depression; polygamy; tattoos and chemtrails. This week we discussed clairvoyance and reincarnation. He told me a story of when he was a small child hanging out on a beach in Orange County with his family. His mother (whom he describes as an old hippy) happened to mention the pyramids of Giza in a conversation between the grown-ups to which the toddler Ian announced in an unusually adult tone of voice, "I used to fly over the pyramids in Egypt." He then turned around and resumed playing in the sand.
I've read of instances whereby small children describe in minute detail the life they just completed. In some cases the facts would be traced back to a family that recently lost a member. As a small child the Dalai Lama could recall his past life as the former Lama. These clear, infant recollections completely vanish as the child grows older. These instances seem to happen the most in India and other cultures that accept the notion of reincarnation. Perhaps they're just as common in the West but parents brush the stories off as nonsense. I'm glad that Ian's mom was hippy enough to pay him attention - whether his story was childish nonsense or indeed a vivid memory.
Our conversation had me so engrossed that I didn't even realize that the haircut had finished until Ian held up the handmirror revealing the clean line at the nape of my neck. After a few sweeps of a brush dusted with Pinaud talcum, I was ready to pay the man and be on my way. I left looking neat and tidy and smelling of Tres Flores hair pomade.
|Freshly trimmed. Laura Johnson took this picture.|