The Time Held in a Single Strand of Hair

There is a routine that repeats every morning. After drinking a glass of water, I absentmindedly face the mirror in front of the bathroom.

That brief moment, which had continued as a habit for a long time, became something I could no longer take for granted from one day to the next.

Now, there is a place my eyes naturally go first.

It is my hair.

When I stand in front of the mirror, I unconsciously check my hair volume and see whether more gray hairs have appeared.

There was a time when I would simply tidy my hairstyle and head out.

But now, I find my 마음 흔들리곤 한다 at the reduced volume and the one or two noticeable gray hairs. I had resolved not to dye my hair, but every time I discover a gray hair, the traces of time are felt at my fingertips.

At some point, hair began to feel like a record of my life.

When I was young, I could run around without caring even if I got caught in the rain, and hair that had been messed up by the wind quickly found its place again.

My life was like that too. Even if I made mistakes and wandered, I believed I would eventually be able to return to where I belonged.

But as I get older, neither hair nor life recovers easily.

Every time I dry my hair, I check the strands that have fallen onto the floor, and when I spot a thinning crown in photos, my heart feels unnecessarily heavy.

Others may not notice, but I know better than anyone else the changes in how I look.

Some people compare hair to the flow of life.

An existence that repeats the cycle of growing and falling out. But not everything grows back. Some things, once they pass, never return.

Like youth, like certain moments.

That irreversibility makes me a little more mature.

Hair is not merely an element that makes up appearance.

It is a trace that records my time as a person.

Excitement and sorrow, regret and courage—all those emotions soak into a single strand of hair.

Between the gradually thinning hair and the newly growing gray hairs, I realize something.

The hair in the mirror is, in fact, another mirror reflecting my life.

Today, as always, I stand in front of the mirror. I sweep my hair back and face a version of myself that is slightly different from yesterday.

Focusing more on what still remains than on what has disappeared, I begin another day that way.