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The experiment began in a orbit of spiritual warriors. The examine I posed to the group was: "What mask or guise would be the most firm for you to stage into? What icon would you never want to portray? Whom do you most authority outdoor of manually?"

From an independent, rebellious, struggling actor, I heard, "Become a custom person; friction a become and tie everyday and have a lot of money." From a butch, comfortably manly lesbian it was, "Shave my legs and friction dresses and framework." A successful businesswoman replied, "Be a road guise, tousled and calm." My answer was, "Be a stereotypical ditzy, sexy blonde."

My icon of myself as a acute, precision spiritual educator did not jive using stuff culturally deemed blonde: inane, sexy, bouncy, seductive. The measly musing of this energy associated using me made me quake. In my own demur I was sinuous, intelligent, thoughtful, compassionate, trustworthy, and comforting. With my long chocolate curls and dimly saggy clothes, I felt prudent and acceptable.

It was a dodgy comfort, I realized. Any time we remain into our masks, no focus how good we reliance they look, we withhold another part of ourselves.
I had horrified masks before, and knew the tremendous energy we acquire when we hike square into our fears using open eyes.

Many days ago, I enthused from a dilapidated, no-running water clip in the internal of a enormous charger farm to a tiny residence in Hong Kong. This soaring residence firm, were I lived using my parents, housed at slightest ten epoch as many people as the city I had left. My goal: to sculpt alter from a babyish, politically active, independent insurgent to a mature, hardworking businesswoman. It was just for the summer, demur you. I required to pay off my debt, and I was bizarre if I could entice this undercover venture off. I recognized that I detained myself out of the mainstream world for panic of down my showpiece, of somehow being assimilated. And I knew that the solely way out was through.

On the airplane to Hong Kong I happening a taxonomy of all the people I remembered interacting using over the previous twelve days in my instruct town: my honey contacts, lovers, teachers, students, acquaintances, even people whose names I had long elapsed. Over four hundred names crammed my journal when I complete the taxonomy. anywhere over the appeasing Ocean, I happening recapitulating from the top of my taxonomy. One by one I sent feeling and credit to apiece guise, breathing back any energy I had astray, releasing any energy I had full on. When I landed fifteen hours later, I was immediate to mean a new dream.

I bald my legs, cut my curls, borrowed a pair of my sister's custom suits, and landed a job reconciling stocks and bonds at Lehman Brothers Investment Corporation. I knew nothing regarding stocks and bonds. I felt quip tiresome a become. But I was determined to commit to this new mask I so feared. I worked 12-17 hours a day, often grabbing dine and discuss at McDonalds. I loved it. I felt freed from my bygone. I returned to the United States using a new confidence and feel of infinite possibilities.

Over ten days later, on another chief experiment, I went blonde. My mission: to onetime again smash my narrow self-concept and stage willingly into what I judged the most. It took me months to concoct up my nerve, to go onto the fears and agreements: "It will ruin my curls. I have a new group of apprentices advent in; I can't be blonde and sexy. It is not mandatory, extra." But onetime I felt the panic, it was too late; I knew had to do it.

The transformation took seven hours, as my curls went from chocolate, to pink-orange, and finally to platinum blonde. I crowd back from the hairdresser, magically drained to the glowing blond fields of oat straw in the sun outdoor my porthole. I felt crammed using blond illumine, my blonde curls communing using all stuff bullion and contents every booth in my body using sunlight. The sneaky mystic life of the very blonde was ecstatic at epoch. Sunlight, blond hills, and long bullion curls opened me to a new appraisal of awareness and bass connection using honey bullion interior illumine.

But more epoch than not during the blonde experiment I cringed when I looked in the mirror at my new character. I felt self-conscious. I felt fake, too rich, too loud. I required to be calm and respectable again. And yet as I prolonged to babysit the fears and doubts and judgments that came up, I reminded myself: "It does not focus what the outdoor looks like, how people perceive you. All that matters is your own self-love, your connection to the divine, your connection to the wisdom of the everyday world."

The outcome of the experiment were fabulous: unexpected mystic connection; unlinking my must for respect on levels I wasn't even precision of; sincere smiles for dolled up, Hollywood-like fake blondes whom I onetime judged fiercely; a new feel of playfulness and inane joy; relief of my must to be seen as a respectful spiritual teacher; and advent into my correct heart, stepping more amply into living from the within out, not from the outdoor in.

I have domestic my enigmatic blonde.