Zen and The Art of Shaving

It just barely light out side and I am shaving my face

I used to stand over the sink and shave

But for the last decade I have discovered, and come to relish, shaving in the shower.

I love the steam and the hot rain drops that envelope my consciousness.

I fill the palm of my hand with a spot of shaving cream

For a minute I become lost gazing into the foam, transfixed as if it were a crystal ball

I know that all of the answers to all of my questions are in that foam somewhere

I am one with my Gillette.

I am not alone and as the blade slides over my chin.

My soul and I share the moment

While the water pounds on the shower wall and drowns out all of yesterday’s concerns

I decide who I will see today and who I won’t.

Gently under the right nostril I plan where I will take my wife for dinner on Friday

Below the left nostril is reserved for selecting vacation possibilities.

While the upper lip stiffens and provides a platform to consider mundane trivia

Such as who was the woman on the elevator who told me to be sure to say hello to the family 

I did not know I could sing until I started shaving

It amazing how a tune will rise to the surface to the tip of your tongue

As the razor seeks to carefully pass by over my adam’s apple.

Should I have sideburns this week?

I think not, I need to have a serious dependable look for my client at lunch.

I have a mirror in my shower but some times I use it and sometimes I don’t

My trusty razor knows every nook and cranny of my two faces

The one that I display to the world and the one that only I can see

Underneath my chin is where I have imagined some of my best poetry

But my cheeks have gotten quite jealous

And argue about bills I must pay and how to solve world hunger.

I have to carefully trim my bushy eyebrows lest someone should think I am a wild old man

I wonder how I would look with a van dyke or a goatee.

I suppose I would resemble some old wizard because all of my whiskers have turned gray.

Earlobes, gotta do the earlobes, there is no dignity in hairy earlobes.

What If I quit shaving all together and just let everything grow out.

I could probably find a used Harley Davidson and some motorcycle boots, I would fit right in.

My lower lip is a really tough spot to do

Still I won’t complain, I mean, I glad I am not a lady

I don’t have to shave legs or armpits that I would dread.

And I am not bald yet so I do not have to do my head.

Sometimes when I do my throat and I am not singing, I talk to God.

There have been days that I have enjoyed our exchange of thoughts so much

That I have rinsed off, got a new hand full of foam and started over,

So that I could finish our conversation.

Usually these occasions are preceded by an extremely close shave that I had on the day before.

Some times the best shave that I get is on Saturday mornings.

This is when I sometimes just take the shower and skip shaving entirely.

On these occasions I just sing either out loud or under my breath the whole time,

And emerge from the shower reborn to go about my business all day in a casual manner,

sporting a growth of stubble that announces to the world “I AM FREE”.

At least until Monday when I get to shave again.

 

mikeb