Nightshift

[DISCLAIMER]

When I was young, my thick and naturally curly hair grew relatively quickly. Because hairstyling was considered an unaffordable luxury, my mom favored inexpensive buzz cuts (a reference to the buzzing sound of electric clippers when hair is cut close to the scalp).

After being placed in a children’s home, I was given the option to receive either haircuts or hairstyling. I experimented with both options and received mostly positive feedback from others about my thick curls. Interestingly, girls and women seemed particularly enamored with my hair.

After a family with whom I attended church services took me into their home, I was afforded more options for hairstyling. I experimented with hairspray, mousse, and gel, finally settling on the latter to lock into place curls which formed when activated by water from showering.

I was quite proud of the way my hair looked and I wore with pride what one elderly Mexican woman from that time in my life referred to as “curlitos” (little curls). It was also at that period in life that I’d befriended a teenager who emigrated from Mexico (“Caesar”).

Caesar had a cousin who, if memory serves, was 10-years-old and had been diagnosed with leukemia. “I’m thinking of shaving my hair and giving it to my cousin as a gesture of solidarity,” Caesar told me, “and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do this with me.”

Caesar was my carnale and if he’d instead asked me to participate in a bone marrow transplant procedure, I’d of gladly agreed. Besides, shaving my hair down to the scalp was a practice with which I was familiar. It seemed like the least I could do, next to doing nothing at all.

I wanted to provide more assistance than merely receiving a buzz cut, bagging up the clippings, and handing them over to the dying child’s mom, yet matters regarding the ill girl were beyond my control and influence. Therefore, Caesar and I clipped our hair and visited the hospital.

The girl’s mother was significantly younger than I am today. When bagged hair was presented to her, she lost all composure and the weight of her upright body caused her legs to buckle beneath her when unfavorable beliefs were present. The process of grieving had already begun.

Within a matter of a couple weeks or so after the above photo was taken, the girl passed away. She’d spent the remainder of her childhood in a hospital bed as medical personnel tended to her on day- and nightshifts. All these years since high school, I now think of that little girl.

When remembering the child to whom I donated hair, I’m reminded of the song “Nightshift” (1985) by the Commodores. Per one source, the song is “a tribute to soul/R&B singers Jackie Wilson and Marvin Gaye, both of whom died in 1984.” Lyrics include:

We all remember you, your songs are coming through

At the end of a long day, it’s gonna be okay on the nightshift

You found another home, I know you’re not alone on the nightshift

It’s a hopeful thought to consider that those we love are “okay” in “another home” on some other plain of existence, presumably on a “nightshift” at the end of a “long day,” isn’t it? With little doubt, the notion that our loved ones are well and awaiting us brings countless people comfort.

I, too, used to believe in an afterlife, though it was more biblically-based rather than the many misinterpretations of the Bible whereby, for some reason, people think they’ll be reunited with loved ones for round two of life. Logically and reasonably, I no longer subscribe to such belief.

As far as I can tell, given available evidence, once we die it’s as though curlitos have been shorn from a scalp. They once were and are now little more than a remnant of what was. Nevertheless, I understand the value of believing that leads to self-deluded comfort.

I say this with rational compassion and not as a form of mockery. Admittedly, I’m irrationally hopeful of many things—most for which I have little-to-no evidence. Besides, the weight of one’s beliefs about death can be quite impactful. Who wouldn’t want to instead choose hope?

For instance, when Caesar’s aunt was presented with a couple bags of hair, she likely used a form of low frustration tolerance whereby she convinced herself that she couldn’t stand what was occurring. Literally, she lost her ability to stand with that form of self-disturbing belief.

I can understand why she and many other people opt for hope in place of despair about death. Personally, the middle ground between hope and despair is the preferred option. Life is impermanent and uncertain, and whatever may or may not come hereafter is also ambiguous.

Therefore, using wisely the time that one has on a proverbial dayshift (life) before transitioning to a nightshift (death) is recommendatorily advisable. Thus, I value unconditional acceptance. It’s the middle ground between hope and despair.

Surely, regardless of whether or not you live to be 10-years-old or 110, you will die one day. This is inescapably true. I choose to accept that the other side of a proverbial coin representing life is death – the obverse (head) of which has been curly, shorn to the scalp, and is now bald.

Given this perspective on life and death, how will you spend your remaining time prior to entering the nightshift? Will you buckle from the weight of your own body when believing that you can’t stand the experience of death? Or will you instead approach the matter rationally?

If you’re looking for a provider who tries to work to help understand how thinking impacts physical, mental, emotional, and behavioral elements of your life—helping you to sharpen your critical thinking skills, I invite you to reach out today by using the contact widget on my website.

As a psychotherapist, I’m pleased to try to help people with an assortment of issues ranging from anger (hostility, rage, and aggression) to relational issues, adjustment matters, trauma experience, justice involvement, attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, anxiety and depression, and other mood or personality-related matters.

At Hollings Therapy, LLC, serving all of Texas, I aim to treat clients with dignity and respect while offering a multi-lensed approach to the practice of psychotherapy and life coaching. My mission includes: Prioritizing the cognitive and emotive needs of clients, an overall reduction in client suffering, and supporting sustainable growth for the clients I serve. Rather than simply trying to help you to feel better, I want to try to help you get better!

Deric Hollings, LPC, LCSW

References:

1Casper3. (2009, January 25). Carnale. Urban Dictionary. Retrieved from https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Carnale

Commodores, The. (n.d.). Commodores - Nightshift (Official music video) [Video]. YouTube. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/FrkEDe6Ljqs?si=XnImj_q0OWd9UuSL

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Hollings, D. (2024, October 20). Unconditional acceptance redux. Hollings Therapy, LLC. Retrieved from https://www.hollingstherapy.com/post/unconditional-acceptance-redux

Hollings, D. (2025, February 9). Value. Hollings Therapy, LLC. Retrieved from https://www.hollingstherapy.com/post/value

Wikipedia. (n.d.). Commodores. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commodores

Wikipedia. (n.d.). Jackie Wilson. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackie_Wilson

Wikipedia. (n.d.). Marvin Gaye. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvin_Gaye

Wikipedia. (n.d.). Nightshift (song). Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightshift_(song)