Seven things I learned from going bald

A few years ago I went bald. I didn't go bald because I was undergoing cancer treatment or because I had some strange hair-loss condition. I was fortunate. It was totally my choice. I had my head shaved to raise money for childhood cancer research via a unique fundraiser known as St. Baldrick's, and in going bald that year, joined the ranks of more than 8,600 women who over the last 10 years have chosen to prove bald is beautiful.

In the U.S., more children die of childhood cancer than any other disease. Every three and a half minutes a child is diagnosed with cancer. One in five children diagnosed with cancer will not survive. Every four hours a child loses their life to cancer. Yet despite these grim statistics, cancer research is almost daily positively changing the outcome for so many and that's where St. Baldrick's plays such a critical role. St. Baldrick's funds are granted to some of the most brilliant childhood cancer research experts to find cures, and improve the quality of life for patients and survivors and the foundation funds more childhood cancer research grants than any organization except the U.S. government.

The year I went bald I did so in memory of my brother, Maury Douglas Lawyer, who died of leukemia when he was only five years old. Dougie as we called him was my older brother and I was two when he died. I do have a few cherished memory snippets of him, but more vividly, I remember watching the shoulders of my handsome six-foot-two father heave with sobs at my brother's grave site. Year after year I've seen my mother's eyes well with tears on Dougie's birthday as she recounts stories from his all too brief childhood, notes how old he would be, and ponders what he might be like or how our lives would be different if he was here. My younger sisters and I, longing to connect to the brother we never really knew, treasure any photo, any remembrance by family and friends. It's a yearning and loss in my family that even with the passage of time can never be erased. In light of this, shaving my head to raise money so that perhaps one day families won't have to experience this kind of suffering seemed not the only right thing to do, but was a cathartic personal pilgrimage that brought many more blessings than the hair I left on the parking lot of VZD's ever did.

I also went bald to honor my friend, Fletcher Christian Vines, who was battling Ewing's sarcoma at the time. Sadly Fletcher died in 2006, but his mother Gail Vines, also a dear friend, with the help of many neighbors and community volunteers, organizes a St. Baldrick's event each year to help keep the momentum going for childhood cancer research and as a way of honoring Fletcher's memory.

St. Baldrick's is happening again in Oklahoma City this year at VZD's on Sun., March 28, 2 p.m. The concept is simple and loads of fun. St. Baldrick's creates a festive, party like atmosphere with music, fun, games, food and drink all part of experience. Shavees volunteer to have their heads shaved while friends and family watch and cheer them onward. Prior to, during and after the event, shavees raise money for childhood cancer research by asking friends, family and the community to donate in support of the shavee in their solidarity with kids fighting cancer. In the U.S. St. Baldricks raised $16,647,783 in 2009, and to date in 2010 the total is $13,664,684. With more events are taking place this year there's a good chance the 2009 total will yet be beat.

Now if the thought of going bald just isn't your thing, no worries. The good news is you can still be a part of this amazing experience. All it takes is coming to VZD's on Sunday, donating, watching 80 or so folks go bald, joining in the fun. Or if you can't make it to the actual event, donate online.

My friends, family and neighbors were amazingly generous when I was a shavee and I ended up raising more than $5,000. This was indeed gratifying, but far beyond the dollar amount, in the process of going bald, I was reminded yet again of the power of community, love, compassion and camaraderie. And along the way I learned a few other things as well:

1. Helping others always brings illumination. In this case the Universe's lessons were many. Despite the skewed perception of our society that celebrities should be treated differently, better than everyone else, what I learned in this event is that life really isn't about any of us as individuals. Countless acts of courage by those living with cancer, their families and friends will never see the light of a television camera, printed page, or 15 minutes of fame. Yet those quiet lives are no less significant, worthy or full of meaning than those deemed "celebrities." In the end, life really is all about community, reaching out to each other, sharing in the joy and suffering, highs, lows and everything in between.
2. Shaving my head to raise money was a bold adventure -- and believe it or not -- it was also one of the most energizing and liberating things I've ever done. Illusion fell to the wayside and life suddenly became starkly real, clarified, with colors that were more vibrant, and emotions dancing like delicate strands of music, connecting me to something indescribable. The evening after I had my head shaved, I went home and took a long hot shower, dried off with the biggest, thirstiest towel I could find, donned a soft knit cap and sat wrapped in a blanket, warm and at peace -- perfect peace.
3. Going bald saved me money and time. Forget all those expensive hair products! And, by not having to mess with my hair for a few weeks -- I got so much more done.
4. I was coloring my hair before the "big shave" and afterwards decided to continue the liberation. I stopped all the messy, expensive, chemicals AND didn't have to go through that awkward, icky, funky, root-showing phase. Shave it baby, shave it.
5. Being bald is cold. Yes, your hair really does keeps you warm, so I quickly become well-acquainted with the joys of soft, snuggly knit caps and beautiful scarves while waiting for my hair to grow back. 
6. Despite the fact it keeps us warm, in the grander scheme of things, hair is irrelevant. Going bald is a humbling experience, but I learned very quickly that my hair isn't who I am at all. And getting over myself, how I look and worrying about what other people think -- well that was and is indeed a priceless gift.
7. Empathy. Going bald in solidarity with kids fighting cancer I was rewarded with a tiny smattering of insight into how cancer patients who lose their hair during treatment must feel -- topsy turvy, upended, discombobulated, scared.

Albert Einstein once noted:

"A human being is a part of the whole called by us Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."

Sometimes in this crazy world you're given a chance to be free of the prison of self, to connect to something bigger than all of us. That's what St. Baldrick's is all about -- stepping out of the prison.