Growing the Beard, Part 2

Nearly three years ago, I wrote the predecessor to this post (which you can read by clicking HERE). Despite the title, the post had little to do with the actual growth of facial hair but instead focused on the symbolic moments in our lives that things turn around. This post will take a similar theme.

As long as I have been able to grow decent facial hair (so from about 2005 on), I have fluctuated from style to style. While some might consider that as a display of how fickle I am, there was always a purpose or a method to my madness. If you know anything about me by now, it’s that I’m a sucker for symbolism. A completely clean shaven Jakob indicated a desire to be serious and buckle down on life (particularly professionally), while the extended soul patch that went down my chin came to define my “GMTEL” look and my attempts to find enjoyment during early adulthood. Various mustaches and other odd fashions signified apathy or a desire to break from the norm.

Growing a beard long indicated grief of some sort, usually due to romantic missteps. In fact, I came to refer to it as a “Beard of Sorrow”. I would grow a beard while I let my spirit heal, and when I felt sufficiently healed I would shave it off and move forward. It became a symbol for whatever hurt I was feeling.

You may have noticed that this year I have had a beard for a greater percentage of time than any other year. However, it has not been a sign of my pain. As you may recall from the previous post, the trope of “Growing the Beard” consists of the singular defining moment that things got better. I no longer grow a “Beard of Sorrow”. Instead, I grow a “Beard of Waiting”. There are two things in my life that I want more than anything else. Those are the two things that drive me on a daily basis. When I look in the mirror and see the beard, it is a reminder that I am not yet where I want to be. Therefore, the onus is on me to end each day a little bit closer to my Personal Legend than I was the day before. When I am close to either of these dreams, I’ll shave off the beard.

So do I think that growing a beard is going to make everything magically fall into place? Of course not. I may be a little off, but I’m not THAT off. What I do know is that every day I have a tangible reminder that where I am and where I want to be are not one in the same. At this point, I’m not there yet. In the meantime, the beard will grow (meticulously trimmed, of course).