With Great Beard Comes Great Responsibility…
The past few years I have dabbled with facial hair, to varying degrees of commitment… I am currently growing a beard, reminiscent of the groomed glory that I had this time last year. The only problem I have is the time and effort it takes to keep the chin decoration looking neat and tidy, as well as all the (optional) grooming paraphernalia that goes along with it.
Unfortunately I am not one of those guys that can just let my facial hair grow unabated, it needs to be tamed on a regular basis. I have a whole range of beard oils/scissors/combs/shampoos/moustache scissors/magic dust to aid me in this quest. All of these implements I was ignorant to till I began my initial journey down the road of face fuzz, but with these weapons in hand I am fully equipped to tackle the challenge of a well kept beard (as opposed to looking like I have accidentally fallen chin first into an unsuspecting birds nest).
It is not, however, the lack of tools to aid me, it is ultimately the change in weather. A great big bushy beard is not a great summer companion. Regardless of my commitment and equipment, I simply fall at the first summery hurdle, the first day the temperature rockets to a whopping and tropical 20°C I fall on to my proverbial sword (or literally, my razor). This is the point I instantly regret my decision and then the cycle of yearning for my beard to return starts again. The vicious cycle of the life of my beard.
Which brings me back to my dilemma. I am hitting that point now. The point of shearing off the face fuzz. Summer time is around the corner, and I can already feel myself heating up with the desire to be clean shaven creeping into my thoughts, and even my dreams. I will openly admit that dreaming of shaving are quite surreal, there is usually a Gladiator style battle sprinkled in there somewhere, or a Nordic God.
Should I quit resisting the temptation to see my face hairless again, and resign myself to the potential reality that I will always yearn for a hefty beard in between being cursed with overheating like a the missing sheep during the spring shear. Or simply accept my fate and the cycle of the life of my beard. I have always believed in following my heart, I believe everyone should listen to their heart a lot more than their brain, but when even my heart says that it is the beard or a bout of sunstroke I have to take note.
For now the beard is here to stay. For now my journey on the road to beardy utopia is a reality. For now. However, for this journey, only time will tell.