My version of morning yoga can be described in two words: cathartic haircut.

Unlike the joy I receive after scrubbing my coffee-stained teeth prior to the 9:30 p.m. wave of exhaustion I experience every night, my morning haircuts are clipper meditation, a cathartic experience gifting a fresh start. And that invisible burden of anxiety that typically accompanies a bountiful beard or helmet of hair? It now flows off my shoulders until the memory of such a feeling is reduced to clumps of grey and black.

My morning has begun and it’s a blank canvas!

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