When I was at college one of my tutors once said to me 'never say never' and of course that's wise counsel.  Yet there are always things we say 'never' to.  Three weeks back after my first dose of drugs I said to a friend words to the effect of 'don't expect to see me without hair' and she said words to the effect of 'never say never.'

So, today was the day of the grand shave, something I was not willing to let anyone witness, being far too intimate, and in any case I didn't want anyone seeing my head before I did.

I didn't actually see it until I got home and took off the freshly shaped wig (which was itching like crazy!) and decided it didn't look so bad after all - and it was bliss to feel air round my head after being cooped up in a scarf or a wig.  So, although I have no intention of appearing bare-headed in public, and although it is still far from completely bald (ironically you have to leave about 1/2 inch so the hairs can fall out properly, and falling out they certainly are) I feel it's time to break another taboo and let the world see what I now look like, at least in the comfort of my own home.  I hope it doesn't distress you to see me thus - I'm actually OK with it.  Yes, I'd love to still have another 24 inches or so but it's still me and I'm still made in God's image and likeness.

Throughout history one of the great taboos has been women with shaven heads.  Indeed, in many cultures a woman's hair is more than her 'crowning glory' it is an outward sign of inner fertility (does that make it a sacrament J? ;-) ) and of course for Sikhs and Nazarites it has immense religious significance.  As I have come to terms, in so far as I can, with the loss of my hair, albeit temporary, I have found myself propelled to the periphery of other people's worlds and been granted just a glimpse of what it might mean, or have meant, for them...

Jewish women (and others) shaved on entry to the death camps

'Collaborators' shaved as punishment for their crimes

Conscripts crew-cut as they enter the service of their nation

Nuns and monks relinquishing the tug of the world's perceived vanity

Today I find myself compelled to pray for the Sikh women undergoing chemotherapy, whose never-cut tresses tumble from their heads under the influence of the drugs.

Today I call to mind the woman with the heamorrhage whose story is told in Luke's gospel, forced to the margins of society and religion by the cruel trick nature played on her body.

Today I remember those who live permanently on the margins, stigmatised by the effects of HIV/AIDS, leprosy, accident or injury.

I cannot enter their worlds or feel their pain, and I am blessed that my trip closer to the margins is temporary, but the glimpse I am granted, may it it change me for the good.

Sydney Carter's much maligned, oft derided, pejoratively dismiised as a "children's" hymn, 'One More Step' comes to mind this morning:

One more step along the world I go,
One more step along the world I go.
From the old things to the new
Keep me travelling along with you.
And it's from the old I travel to the new.
Keep me travelling along with you.

Round the corners of the world I turn,
More and more about the world I learn.
All the new things that I see
You'll be looking at along with me.
Chorus

As I travel through the bad and good
Keep me travelling the way I should.
Where I see no way to go
You'll be telling me the way, I know.
Chorus

Give me courage when the world is rough,
Keep me loving though the world is tough.
Leap and sing in all I do,
Keep me travelling along with you.
Chorus

You are older than the world can be,
You are younger than the life in me.
Ever old and ever new,
Keep me travelling along with you.
Chorus

Sydney Carter (1915-2004) © 1971 Stainer & Bell Ltd.
9 9.7 9. & Refrain

Today there are new steps to take, another 'bend' to negotiate on my up hill climb and another 'stile' to get over.  A busy day in prospect with the hairdresser in the morning and the chemotherapist in the afternoon.

So, I'll be rounding a corner in my little world and seeing 'new things' (Just what does my totally naked scalp look like? Hmm!) but here's the important reminder... God travels that journey with me and sees things at the moment I see them, sharing the emotions, holding my hand if needed and hopping with me (the alternative version of 'Footprints') along the beach.

Sometimes, you know, I think it's the kiddies hymns we deride the most that contain the most profound theology...