Barbershop Observations

I.
Today, a new barber told me I’ve been brushing my hair in the wrong direction my whole life, literally sweeping it to the wrong side. He adjusted the part, gave me a trim, then held up the mirror to prove his point. And honestly, he might be right.

It made me wonder: what else have I accepted as true since childhood, simply because no one ever corrected me?

II.
Conversations at the barbershop have a unique honesty. Maybe it’s the time limit, or the way we meet only once a month, detached from the rest of each other’s lives. There’s no status contest, no professional rivalry. Just two people (one with scissors, one with wet hair) talking.

III.
The best haircut and shave I’ve ever was a year ago at a neighbourhood barbershop in Morioka, Japan. Since I don’t speak Japanese, he worked wordlessly. But the care he brought to every step, from the wash to the cut to the multi-step shave, was astonishing.

I’m not used to being touched with that kind of tenderness by another man. It wasn’t sexual, just human. I sat there and wondered - what if more men experienced this? Is it possible that we’d be a little less aggressive? A little more at peace with ourselves?

I can’t decide what is the real takeaway from this post. Is it:

(a) Sitting in silence with the barber in Morioka made me more attuned to the care he was showing me

or

(b) if I understood Japanese, I may have learned a whole year sooner that I was brushing my hair to the wrong side?