pope

Rolling along the gravel while Ash trots beside me, tongue hanging out after a play at the park. I’ve never ridden a single speed before. It feels…

It feels.

We’re off the path. There are fences here now and signs for new development. At the top of the hill, I see a tire crest, then a head, then a smile. Ash’s tongue bounces. As we pass, there is a nodding of heads, a twinkling of eyes, a shared knowing this wilderness won’t last. We’ll have to take the main road someday. Not today.

Today we’re off the path.

---

• your irreverent pope

Why Don’t You Just KILL YOURSELF?!

Let me introduce myself. I'm pope. Wait. I'm the traveling barber. Wait. I'm a small business owner. Wait. I'm an artist. Wait. I’m a lover, a friend, a poet, a professional bullshit slinger.

I am not really any of those things. I do those things. Who am I then? I hope I am what the moment calls for. I don't travel to barber that much anymore. I haven't for a while. I have been so scared to kill the traveling barber. Will people abandon me.? Will they accept the shapeshifter that I am? Will I lose all my clients? Who am I if I’m not that?

I am a little different every day. In large part thanks to my client's diverse worldviews I get great nuggets from them all the time. In one conversation about some tired branding I needed to let go of, my client told me to “murder my darlings,” an idea in creative writing penned by Arthur Quiller-Couch. He purposed, it's time to kill off a character or storyline that no longer serves the overarching piece, no matter how emotionally attached you are.

This advice helped me let go of that tired branding. It felt very freeing and I got to wondering, how free would I feel if I could do this with some of the character traits that no longer blended into the tapestry I saw as my beautiful life? How many new colours would I get to work with if I just dropped the ones I have been gripping this whole time? I am very attached to the idea of being a good person, a smart person, a desirable person. What if I just kill my most darling of all? Me, and see what happens.

It's fucking awesome! Life is best lived curiously, with as few labels and boxes as possible, it is short and long, too short to waste time in the boxes, too long to be sad about letting go of the ones we thought we really liked.

One of the reasons I have a passion for barbering is the lessons I learn behind the chair every day. The peeps in my chair teach me. They are fascinating, they make me wonder. They pull me to the present. The peeps in my chair remind me to be thoughful and joyful. One teaches compassion and resilience as they deal with their grief of lost love, lost life, lost time. The next guides me through a practical way to use google calendar for time management. They all teach that our perspective is our reality.

These are my peeps. Thanks for keeping me on my toes. Making me laugh. Sharing your sorrows. Thank you for inciting my curiosity.

~your irreverent pope

The Zen Practice of Parenting

I know a man whose child was born with death immediately knocking. I came to know this about him when he asked me to cut his beard shorter than we ever had. I ask what has prompted this change? He has been and will be wearing a surgical mask quite often for the foreseeable future. His child has been born. They are in the intensive care unit with a prognosis that says odds are they will be there for the entirety of their life, the length of which provokes resentment and raises questions about everything he thought he knew.

“Wow, I'm so sorry,” I say. “ That sounds fucking hard.”

Out of a small closed crooked smiling mouth comes a laugh and a “Yeah” as a reply.

“I must say, you seem very centred; how have you managed that?”

“I just got tired of crying all the time... and my child... my family... they are in enough pain. I don't need to bring any more. I feel sad and cry, in the truck on the way to and from the hospital, in the evenings and sometimes at work. When I hold my child, I just love.”

“What a gift you are giving them.”

When they leave this world, be it against all odds in old age, tomorrow, or perhaps they are already gone as I write this, they will have experienced a father swimming in the bliss of their existence right now—not drowning in the sorrow of the moment that comes after their last breath.

What a gift he has given us all. He has seen the ephemeral flower and decided to smile at its temporal but exuberant aliveness.

He did not turn sorrow off. He chose to feel it fully. This I think is why he is able to hold his family. Give and receive love while staring at the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, knowing that it will be gone before he is. Sorrow is not separate from joy. It is parallel to it—a truth this man chose to live.

Pain and death will come knocking for us and everyone we love. We can choose to feel it. To live it all, to grieve when we feel we must and to give the gift of presence and joy. To bask in the beauteous being, the perfect imperfections of those we love most, while the quietly deafening void awaits.

your irreverent pope

I Believe I Can Flow

I think anything that takes a one-point focus is mesmerizing to watch. I’m not into golf, but if it's on, I love watching the intensity on the player's faces as they set up their shot. You can tell nothing else is seeping through. The rest of the world fades away. It's them, the feeling of the grip of their club in their hand, the air on their face, a deep breath and swing on the exhale. Then the spell is broken. What's the score? What are the chances of the next chump’s shot? But a moment ago there was nothing but that moment. When there is no future, no past, that is when we are truly free. So we are drawn to it

That's where you want your barber. In one of those moments, in a collection of those moments that add up into that sick fade bro. To be what I consider a good barber. That's where you need to be. There is only you, the stroke of the clippers, the flow of conversation between you, possibly across the room. I'm not always a good barber. Sometimes I find myself thinking about some bullshit that has nothing to do with the haircut I'm currently in or the words swirling around me. I search and dig deep for as many of these moments I can flow into.

It started when I started riding my bike again a few years ago. THE FEELING ON MY BIKE, it's a drug I want everywhere in my life. I want it with every haircut, so I actively sit in these moments where everything fades away except what's right in front of me, no matter what it is. If it's good, soak it up. If it's what I have deemed bad; can I shift my perspective? Or can I see more clearly how the manipulation of variables could make it what I have deemed is good? Can I let it lie?

What is your one-point focus? Where in your day does everything else fade away. Can you push it? Extending it. What activities split your head in 10 different ways? Why is that?

What is there to be done about it? Nothing you say. The brain just works that way. Nay good sirs, ladies, and unicorns everywhere! The mind is a muscle. When I notice I am not really where I am. Maybe my hands are technically cutting this peep's hair, but my mind is already on my impending spa day, 2 edibles and 3 saunas deep. I hit pause.

In the recesses of this energetic fireball, the awareness pops out. “Hey, you are in two places at once right now. Pick one.” The key here is that once you notice your brain splitting, you don't judge yourself for the fact that it happened. Just acknowledge it and try to pick one of the ten places your brain wants you to be. This is the push-up for the brain. When you start doing this it's okay to only be able to successfully redirect your thinking once a day.

If you have taken time off at the gym, say fifteen years like I did. When you go back it's okay that you can only do one push-up on your knees. We all have faith that if we keep doing those push-ups on our knees, one day, we will be able to do one with our knees lifted high and proud. It's the same with your brain. Cut yourself some slack. People have been telling you all your life that you are subject to your thoughts when it can be the other way round. It's fucking hard. Just like the last rep. Enjoy the process, laugh at yourself when you fail at this and keep going. Anything else is a waste of your precious time.

your irreverent pope

Everyone is a Paradox

We have to allow people their hypocrisies if we want them to allow ours. If you don't think you have them, fuck off. Move on to the next blog.

• your irreverent pope