Ugly Sunglasses

On things that just will not friggin' go away.

There they were. Again. At the bottom of a back-of-the-closet wrong-season pile of laundry that’d long needed folding. Those damned sunglasses.

Cheap sunglasses. Why’d I think sunglasses were oh so necessary in that moment? Plastic purchased in a panic. These will have to do … swipe, gotta go!

Big. Strangely shaped. Dark tortoiseshell plastic on top graduating to half-navy rims below, suggestive of dark under-eye circles.

Unflattering? Understatement. Surely you exaggerate, Ash! Often, yes; this time, no. These do me no favors. At all. And yet. They stick around, these ugly sunglasses.

Cheap but flattering sunglasses are possible.Picked up a great pair of aviators, $13.99 from the RaceTrac down by the airport. Promptly dropped them two weeks later. Cringed as they slid across the concrete sidewalk, pale pink reflective lenses deeply scratched. Visibility hopelessly obscured. So much for my rose-colored glasses.

Once. Oh, once, Dear Reader. Once in a prior life, I had a fabulous collection of designer sunglasses. Fab-u-lous, I tell you! Gorgeous pieces. Transformative. Each evoking instant Glamour. Each shielding tired eyes, sad eyes, scared eyes, I’d rather not look into my own eyes.

In this Life, the sun shines brighter. There’s the irony. For one by precious one, these beauties became lost treasures. Broken. Misplaced. Or chewed by Mazie, for whom Gucci was her puppy-preference. She could have snacked on the ugly sunglasses. Oh but no, it had to be Gucci. And with that—deep in the dog days of two summers past—the last of bougie shades were gone.

Yesterday I tossed my backpack into the front seat. The toss itself was quick. But it turned to slow-motion as I watched the backpack land atop my faithful $25 shades. One leg snapped as one lens popped out and onto the floorboard. Goodr’s OG style named "A Unicorn's Calamity", (creative in a name-the-OPI-nail-polish kind of way), now a calamity IRL that only a magical unicorn could reassemble.

I’m down to one pair of shades. Yep. You guessed it. The ugly ones. They’re sitting on my writing desk. An object of contemplation all week. Shouldn’t I just …? Why can’t I just …? I really could just … toss them, already!

They’re not THAT bad! Yeah, that’s what I say every single time. They might be great for someone. But they do not serve me. And with that, they shall be laid to rest in a donation box today. Sweet, blessed release!

Ugly sunglasses offering this stark reminder: Things that do not serve us often linger well past their Best By date.

We bury them in a box of sort-these-later or they land at the bottom of a hamper of fold-these-sometime. Momentarily forgotten.

But they will resurface. When we least expect it. When we are not looking. Damned ugly sunglasses, there they are again.

Darling, the only way to stop the cycle is to release the ugly sunglasses. Inexplicably, this is easier said than done. Maybe they’ll look better tomorrow? Shouldn’t I be grateful to have them? Wouldn’t it be wasteful to toss them? But aren’t they really just too awful to give away?

A decision is required. One made with clear and unwavering Certainty. Determination. Resolution. These do not serve me, they must go.

But the decision alone is not enough. Action is required. Unless and until I remove the sunglasses altogether, here they will linger. And that, Dear Reader, is the ugly truth.

This isn’t just about sunglasses, is it Ash?

Well, as it turns out, those ugly sunglasses proved valuable, for they gave me this precious reminder.

Notice what does not serve you. Notice when it continues to resurface. Notice how you cringe—is it ever-so-slightly or gut-wrenching? Either way. Notice the urge to shove that feeling away, to ignore it, to deal with it some other time.

Accept that the feeling, the obstacle, the vexing thing will not go away of its own accord. But do not accept its presence for a moment longer.

Decide to face it. Decide to address it. Decide to release it. Walk away from it silently. Or burn it down aggressively.

Decide the How. Then do it. Now. Without further hesitation. With decisive action. Give it no more energy. Let it take no further space—in Home, in Head, in Heart. Remove it.

Now, with this Freedom. With this space. Space to breathe. Space to think. Space to not think. Space to simply be. Now, wait. Don’t rush to fill the space. Let the space remain. What is meant for that space will come, Beloved. In time, it will come.

Face to the sun, hair in the wind. You’ll find that the sunglasses weren’t essential. But the clarity was long overdue.

Remember-this-moment selfie on a Stone Mountain hike yesterday, where I go to reset. Sometimes the mountain talks; sometimes it listens.

Oh, but that’s not the end of the story!

Last night’s perfect early-Spring evening, I walked up to Whiskey Bird—a favorite neighborhood spot. In a quick trip to the loo before walking home, I did a double take. Here, look for yourself:

What. On. Earth. Ladies?! I am all for addressing the ugly sunglasses problem. But surely there’s a better way! Let’s not actually flush them down the shitter, please. Seems obvious. And yet. If our friends at Whiskey Bird found it imperative to post this sign … well, this has to have happened on more than one occasion.

So perhaps the ugly sunglasses’ final lesson is this: Take that decisive action, indeed. But do consider the effect on others … and don’t be shitty! For Life is Beautiful. Indeed.

Mural at Whiskey Bird in Atlanta’s Virginia Highlands. I’ve seen this neon mural 1,001 times and, every single time, it makes me smile. Isn’t it, though?

Cheap Sunglasses circa 1979

Dear Reader, I know it’s been plaguing you this whole time … what was that ZZ Top song? Go get yourself some cheap sunglasses, baby!

When you get up in the morning and the light is hurt your head
The first thing you do when you get up out of bed
Is hit that streets a-runnin' and try to beat the masses
And go get yourself some cheap sunglasses
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Spied a little thing and I followed her all night
In a funky fine Levis and her sweater's kind of tight
She had a west coast strut that was as sweet as molasses
But what really knocked me out was her cheap sunglasses
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Now go out and get yourself some big black frames
With the glass so dark they won't even know your name
And the choice is up to you cause they come in two classes
Rhinestone shades or cheap sunglasses
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

- Billy Gibbons / Dusty Hill / Frank Beard © BMG

Maybe about a hangover. Maybe about choosing authenticity and the attraction of just being real. Either way, here’s to those rock-n-roll guitar Glory Days (Springsteen circa 1984, obviously)!

Postscript: Said My Piece

The words. Just. Stopped. The flow the urgency the tap of fingers dancing across a keyboard the sigh of relief when spent the soft thump of a laptop tossed aside with my own head cocked to the side wondering about you, Dear Reader.

Just like that. There was nothing more to say. I'd said my piece. You surely wouldn’t have known it. The call-out was an Easter egg, the kind that would rival a Taylor Swift album launch. And as the pop culture phrase goes, I said what I said. And that was that.

If you’ve ever said your piece, then you know. It’s time to be still. To sit silently in the echo of those words. To breathe and release. And yes, to reclaim Peace.

Then. Marco! Polo! Dear Katie sent a video message via this app, brightly-colored bird on her shoulder, wisdom in her eyes, that knowing smile spread lovingly across her face. How’s the writing, Ash? Oh, ummm, well, you see, I said my piece.

Then. Dear Allie phoned late in the night while walking her Beagle pup, her make-me-laugh cry-with-me let’s-go-adventure voice over the line making me miss her even more. How’s the writing, Ash? Oh, ummm, well, you see, I’m out of words.

And just like that, the need to get up and go—to get up and grow—emerged. It’s a slow stretch after a long nap.

But Spring is here. A season of fresh Life. Of beauty and bees. Of eyes squinting into sun. Of pink cheeks and warmed Hearts and long hair caressed by the breeze. When grass grows kelly-green. When cars glow pollen-yellow. When the need to move burns white hot.

It is an Awakening. Past due. Right on time. Just in time.

XO, Ash