There’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time— It’s rare to see someone with both thick hair and a full beard.

Instead, what we often see are bald heads with beards growing lush and powerful.

The same skull, one way up and one way down, how come the division is so clear?

They could say hormones, they could say receptors, they could even chalk it up to evolutionary coincidence. But it still feels strange to me. Why does even hair have to pick sides?

Taoists say hair is an antenna to the sky. Yet many bald monks are just as connected. So is a beard the grounding wire? And if women don’t have beards, does that mean they’re cut off?

Obviously not.

So I began to suspect the problem isn’t the beard, and it isn’t the hair.

The problem is why are we so attached to having an answer? To a conclusion? To a result? :) When something appears, our first reaction isn't “let’s look,” it’s “let’s explain.”

Accidents need causes, emotions need attribution, even natural phenomena must be folded into a story that feels safe enough to repeat.

Children ask “why” because they’re genuinely curious. Adults ask “why” mostly to be done with their unease. They don’t need truth, they need a version that sounds reasonable enough.

Good or bad doesn’t matter; what matters is whether it can tidy up the discomfort and move on. And some things simply have no standard answer.

Just like where a beard grows, it just grows there.



—— XC Scribbles · 柒拾捌 LXXVIII 🧬**