Kincaid: FAQ: Why’d You Cut Your Hair?

They ask, “You cut your hair? And your beard?! Why?!”


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I say, “It was just time for a change.”


They say, “Uh. Oh. Okay.”


But, really, why the f*** did I cut my hair and my beard?


Well, because it was time for a change.


Care to elaborate?


Here’s where I usually send people to an EVOLVE Wrestling promo I did right after I shave my head in which I say, “I feel like the hair was getting in the way of how people should view me.”


“And how should people view you?” A person asks off camera.


“Unfortunately, from a safe distance.” I answered.


Which is a cool answer, and in-a-way-true, but if you’re looking for the truth - the whole truth - and nothing but the truth...sorry, I can’t help you there, because finding truly objective truth is harder than Kanye West watching a Kanye West video. But I will share some of my subjective truth on the subject that may or may not shine some light into the brain beneath the “Buddha Embryo” tattoo.


First and foremost, because I understand perception and privilege.


You see, one of my biggest inspirations of becoming a better person has been Joe Rogan who will say sh** like, “Think of generosity as the ability to drop little love bombs.”


If Ben Affleck said the same sh** I would roll my eyes so far into the back of my head that my optic nerves would severe from my ateral geniculate nucleus and drape from my eye socket, giving me the appearance that I have rats burrowing into my brain, but it doesn’t when Rogan says it.


Why not? Because: I have a sneaking suspicion that Joe Rogan could choke me the f*** out if he wanted to, but would most likely choose not to out of disciplined self-control and compassion. While I also intuit that Ben Affleck couldn’t choke me if I had one arm tied behind Matt Damon’s back, and wouldn’t if he could out of sheer fear of looking uncool if he tried and failed.


The difference is the privilege of perception.


If the store clerk looks you in the eyes, fully acknowledging your presence, says, “I hope you have a great day.” You don’t give an inch of f***. If someone you admire - respect - look up to - who you didn’t think knew you existed - looks you in the eyes, fully acknowledging your presence, says, “I hope you have a good day.” You could probably reach China with the f***s you give.


The difference is the privilege of perception.


If cute teddy bears that live in the heavens show that they care with love and affection, it’s a sweet little story that might make you smile, but when the ugly monster shows kindness to a helpless orphan it’s a feels-wrenching story that might have you hiding back happy tears.    


The difference is the privilege of perception


So, how does that tie in with me chopping off my hair at 5 am after an eight hour drive?


As addressed in Sidd Non-Vicious, I had gotten tired of hearing and reading “new age” and “hippie”, not because I think there is anything wrong with those terms and the typically fun people they represent, but that’s just not what this meat vehicle and life that is unfolding, that we call Jason Kincaid, is about. Those are dismissive terms that are used as synonyms for other less polite words like “p***y” and “scatter-brained idealist”.


If your intention is to inspire people to stop being blown around by the winds of fear, you can’t look like a “p***y”. (The word being a synonym for cat - or something easily scared away - not to be confused with the word that is a synonym for the female reproductive organ which we all should understand to be the most badass and brave organ in the Universe.)


If you want people to deeply examine your words and see if they apply to their own subjective truth, you can’t look like someone who might be a “scatter-brained idealist”.


So, why did I cut all my hair off?


Because it’s hard to talk about high-ideas, while I look like I might be high.


If that’s the case why go even wilder with your look? Why the head tattoo? If you want people to listen why not take on a professorial appearance?


Because I want to reach the type of people that would roll their eyes at most professors,  that would understand and empathize with Frankenstein's monster, that might be the type of people a Jewish teacher might get criticized by religious fanatics for hanging out with.


Did the tattoo hurt?


Well, after I got it done, my friend who hung out for the whole seven hour - all in one go - session posted on Facebook: “Jason Kincaid is the baddest motherf***er on the planet.” Why because I didn’t flinch and sat calmly still the whole time, clean and sober.


So, you’re saying it didn’t hurt?


Nope, by the end it was one of the most painful things I have ever been through.


So, you had too much pride to show that it hurt?


Nope, too much dignity.  


Aren’t they the same sh**?


Nah, they might be closely related enough for the words to get listed together in loose definitions, but they’re different. You will often hear, “He has too much pride.” I don’t know if I have ever heard, “He has too much dignity.” Some people have too much dignity to be prideful, others are too prideful to show dignity.


What’s the difference?


Pride is saying, “I am better than you.” Dignity is saying, “We’re better than that sh**.”


So, you’re ‘better than’ ‘one of the most painful things’ you have ever been through?


Absolutely. If I want people to respect my badassness I have to protect it.


But isn’t it good - even brave and badass - to show vulnerability? To let others know when you’re in pain?


When it’s real pain, for sure.


If thousands of bee stings on your head for seven hours isn’t ‘real pain’ what is?


Not a bunch of pin-pricks from a friend in a friendly setting, that’s for sure. Real pain is pain that lasts that causes what you’re really talking about: injury. Actually, some of the realest pain is not to the head, but in your head. The looping voice in your mind that tells you that you’re not good enough and/or that the World and the people in it aren’t good enough causes some of the worst injuries people will ever suffer from.


But what if you, those around you, and the World actually aren’t good enough? How can positive change occur without that looping voice telling you that sh**’s f***ed up?


If you think you’re going to force yourself, those around you, and the World, to change go ahead, I’ll wait.






Sh** still f***ed up?




That on-repeat voice of discontent with the contents of your life didn’t help?


Nah… Not really. But it kept me busy. Too busy actually. I burnt out. Caught fire, again. Burnt out, again. Caught fire, again. Burnt out, again. Caught-


Yeah, I get it. Seems like you’re life is cycling like the voice in your head.


Maybe, but the voice is right, you know. Sh** is f***ed, people are f***ed, I’m f***ed. You never answered my question: how can positive change occur without that looping voice telling you that sh**’s f***ed up?




Don’t tell me to relax! I asked you a f***ing question I demand an answer.


Relax, is the answer.  


So, you’re saying just accept that sh** is f***ed?


I accept it, sure...but I wouldn’t say “just accept” it. Why not try to actively work to make my life, other’s lives, and the World better, but not because you think that you, they, and It is/are not good enough. That’s supposing some sort of perfection on the World, that you and I have no reason to expect. Of course, some sh** seems f***ed, it has seemed so since my memories start, how about yours?


Why should we expect that to stop being true, then? Can’t we assume by this point that there will always be f***ed up sh** in human lives?


Yeah… So why do we expect it?


I don’t know, but it seems like a special thing that makes us human - to expect things to get better - to strive to make things better for ourselves, others, and the World. That seems like a beautiful instinct, but the problem seems to be that that instinct leads to violently trying to force perfection, which causes a lot of injury.


So, it’s like a special flaw in humans?


I don’t think it’s a flaw, I think it’s more like an embryo of compassion that needs to grow in the womb of wisdom. Wisdom that it’s all perfect...even the voice telling you that it’s all imperfect; we don’t have to change sh**. Sh** will change by its damn self that’s the nature of sh**, you know: to change. That being said, why not go about enjoying the fun of healing the injuries that we and the World incur along this bumpy ride, throwing wise-but-compassionate seeds into the sh** so, maybe just maybe, it will change its damn self into flowers.


And what if flowers bring bees?


Learn how to sit still incur the stings with dignity and wait calmly for the fleeting pain to pass.


I see what you did there.


Wait, ‘embryo’... ’Buddha Embryo’...


I see what you did there.


And wait, that reminds me: we were talking about your badass head tattoo how did we get on all this human-spirit, psychology sh**?


Oh, yeah, I see what you did there, too.

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