embracing gray.

Nearly five months ago I stopped dying my hair. It was July 7th, and after I rinsed the color from my hair for the last time I went to pick up a rental car downtown, my hair still wet, ready to leave first thing in the morning. Two weeks earlier I’d had an entirely different plan, and yet on July 8th I drove away from Denver alone and headed west towards a very spontaneous new life. June had been tumultuous in the way you can’t expect until it’s suddenly happening to you, and I had no idea that the next month would somehow, unexplainably, just-when-you-think-things-can’t-get-worse, hold even more tumult.