A couple of years ago i decided to start shaving with a straight razor. I felt at the time it was a significant gesture against the waste and rush of the modern world, because in a lifetime one spends thousands of dollars on “disposable” razors, and they don’t really give you that good a shave. It reminded me of what the Dalai Lama said about the modern advertising world, and how ultimately it could not make money on selling you the cure for thirst, but instead, in order to make itself useful and needed, had to make you more thirsty. Hence providing a cheap, disposable shaving device that did not shave well, would wind up in the end making vastly more money than just investing in a lifetime single straight razor. Fight the Power! At least that’s what I thought at the time. My first few months of learning to shave with a sraight razor were like scenes from a horror movie, with co-workers asking me if I had been atacked by a street gang and such. Eventually I learned that being slow and gentle was the key, and I eventually became a master of the close and meticulous shave with a deadly straight razor, often shaving over my moles and other imperfections in my skin without the slightest trace of blood. Then came the real lessons. You see, life has to be about balance, and patience. I still find, that when I am emotionally frustrated, distraught, or otherwise not engaged in the moment, my perfect shaves don’t go so perfectly. I have had a frustarting week, filled with doubt, hearing about people who make integer multiples of my annual income in only one month, I find myself in the work place asking myself “what am I doing here?” and “am I really serving my goals? Or just passing time here?”, it has been a solid week of these thoughts, and as I cracked open my straight razor tonight, and began my methodical process, I knicked myself twice. I stood there, looking in the mirror, with two little streams of blood, that I knew I could have avoided, and realized I had lost my balance this week. I asked myself why I had done this, what was it that made me so impatient, why did I feel so rushed? Why do I feel so exhausted? I knew that these doubts about my own strength were at the root of the mistake. I had to take moment to remember, that life is not a race, there is no winner, this is all the time I will ever have, and that I need to enjoy it, savor it, and be one with it. Once again I had been tricked into thinking that I had to move twice as fast and work twice as hard to get ahead, but did not ask myself where I was trying to go. I came home, from a frustrated week, and was tempted to be angry with my good and gentle partner, and I wasn’t sure the reason why. Our relatioship seemed like more business that I had to take care of, without asking myself what the cost of business was. My partner got the better of me in the end and started sharing with me details of his day, and as I enaged, I felt my stress and anger melt away, and was once again reminded to be mindful. I still feel frustration that somehow I have been tricked into being two people, a callous person of business, and a mindful, meditative person, and am never quite sure where the difference lies, or when the switchover takes place. It doesn’t seem right that I should lead this dual existance, I like who I am now, the person who is writing this, the person who can shave with a straight razor gently, with a slow deliberate focus that never cuts, the person who loves my kind and gentle partner Joe. What is it about the world that changes me? I’m not sure I will ever understand.