Yesterday, in an obscure alleyway somewhere in the chaos of Delhi, I visited a barber shop for a shave. As usual in India, the barber did an amazing job and I emerged with my face feeling smooth as silk. It was, indeed, a close shave.
It occurred to me that this phrase, ‘a close shave,’ is rather curious. It has come to mean a narrowly-avoided disaster, with the only positive aspect being that the disaster didn’t happen. In reality, though, a close shave is much more than that. Yes, it feels rather risky, as that traditional cut-throat razor blade glides over the jugular veins and the larynx. Assuming disaster is avoided though, the result of the close shave is much more positive than merely having avoided an early demise. That smooth skin is a rejuvenation and a return to innocence.
So many moments in life are like visiting the barber, if we are prepared to take a risk. It is easy to avoid a close shave and let an opportunity pass. Those missed opportunities are liable to linger on in us as regret, though. Conversely, when we do take the risk, we usually end up feeling as revitalised as I did yesterday, with that close shave.
