This morning I was reading an article on haircare, and what caught my eye was an interesting contradiction in the tips given. One tip was not keep the hair wet, in order to avoid frizzy hair; and the next tip was not to use drying and heat machines to dry the hair. Is this an oxymoron in research? I think so! Considering that oxymoron is defined as: “(noun) a figure of speech in which apparently contradictory terms appear in conjunction.”

Well, it did get me wondering, if I wash my hair I should ideally not leave it wet; and to dry it I need to avoid the dryer. So, then how do I dry wet hair, without leaving it wet to dry. Even after I use the towel the hair is wet till it dries, unless I start spending an hour, or so towel rubbing my hair to dryness; which will lead me to baldness in a couple of years. I am already heading there with gratitude to a combination of contributing reasons – hereditary (the oxymoron of this situation is I got the balding genes from my father; rather than the good hair genes from my mother – the father passed to his daughter baldness, instead of the mother generously passing her hair genes to her), Type 1 Diabetes, stress, thyroid and crazy raging hormones.

What should I do with my wet hair after the shampooing and conditioning – leave the wet hair to dry and use serum to settle the frizzy-fullness. I think basically the person who invented the oxymoron and passed it to the world was really bored. To entertain himself/herself they simply thought of bringing contradictions together, and then figure the way through it. I would prefer to imagine it was a men-o-pausal woman, whose hormones created so much of confusion that she decided to understand herself through the contradictions that surfaced from within. Her first one was possibly, “I feel I don’t know what I feel.” A lightbulb switches on, “Oh, so I feel, something, and I don’t know what I feel. Am I sad, am I happy, is there a calm, is there a storm? I am feeling, what, am I feeling? Or, I am feeling, what, am I feeling!” 

Then came the fine-tuning over a period of time, to fine tooth the oxy-moron to become an oxymoron – contradictions. Why is it called an oxymoron? The term is a contradiction itself? I am seriously not joking, as the word comes from Latin word ‘Oxymoros’. This is a combination of two words – ‘Oxys’ meaning “sharp, pointed” and ‘Moros’ meaning “stupid”, as in moron.

So, an oxymoron, according to me, is not only a figure of speech; but also a figure of philosophy that triggers the dull intellect to work sharply. 

The fact is that when this morning I read the article on hair care tips, it got me thinking on how to dry wet hair without keeping it wet, and het not using a drier. The solution came, after I towel dried my wet hair and went about using the serum. Voila! Eureka! Serum your wet hair and no frizzy hair. I feel like I achieved big time today.

Then over a cup of coffee, I went deeper into the oxymoron zone, and felt like I was accomplishing something big – the philosophy of oxymoron. I could call my followers ‘Oxymoronics – The seekers of accurate estimates to life’s problems’.

See, the oxymoron in the newspaper’s research section has given this young aging peri-menopausal woman a purpose – Oxymoron Philosophy – search, research, original findings and discoveries to lead those in the dark light to the light of their darkness.

In the midst of imagining the possible manifestation of my greatness, something came to me – a thought. Would this be an oxymoron, or an error in speech – something came to me – a thought. The last I checked a thought is a thought, an energy. I don’t think it is a thing that comes. It is simply a thought that comes and not a thing that comes. I think I will leave this for now. It will make an interesting discussion with the husband, considering yesterday we exchanged 399 words in the entire day, including the 50 through whats app.

Today, I am looking forward to cross the 499 mark with this topic of discussion. I know of it, 459 will be mine and the in between word dropping will be from him to cross this number. 

I think as women grow older, and more philosophical they really want to discuss more. I am not saying it is a verified factor. I would like to believe what I observe about myself is as common as the vaginal dryness I experience at this stage. Sisters of the world (those in the perimenopause to menopause stage) we are in this phase together. 

So, a good day with my husband is when we speak more than 399 words. A bad forgetful day is anything below that. Though sometimes, when I am enjoying myself sulking, I prefer the zero word zone. See, another oxymoron – enjoy sulking! 

Did you ever realize the our life is an oxymoron, with which there are many, many oxymorons. Just like every drop makes the ocean, every oxymoron makes the entire Oxymoron life. 

When we are young with all the energy to work, our ambitions are big, are dreamers are bigger, our stress is high, we wait for that time to slow down. When the time comes to slow down we want to be young and we do a lot to experience that young-ness. 

I hate exercising when I was younger, and now that I am older I love exercising after 2 cups of caffeine, a handful of vitamins, and a metabolism enhancing caffeine capsule. You bet I love my time at the gym. What an oxymoron! 

I want the “Breasts” (not balls for all the husbands, like the husband I have – it is “Breasts) to be firm, the glutes to be shaped and firm, the skin tight and supple, the glow, the hair luscious (no greys please), nails fancy – all young and beautiful in the mid-life to old age.

With age comes experience. Yeah right! And so does dryness, looseness, sagginess, raging hormones, mood-swings-so-dangerous, wrinkles, libido playing hide-n-seek (it hides when it wants and seeks itself for you when it wants to); and more can be added to this list. 

So, the journey here is ageing towards being young. Ah, an oxymoron of life. Rather, an accurate estimate of being human.

Here is another one I was mulling over – “happily married.” Barring the photographs and status updates, and the showing off in public, nobody in the confines of their home can be happily married, especially if husband and wife have crossed their 40s and the wife has come into perimenopause. Their enemy is the hormones, and the reality is with each passing day, they are less happily married, and more wizening-by-the-day-married. This stage in life makes the wife wiser, and the man catches up briskly steadily.

“You must always focus on the positives in the negative,” say many-a-spiritual-teachers. I am wondering, doesn’t this imply one needs to obviously observe the negative and pick out the positives. Which means that one has to be focussed on the whole, figure out the negative and pull out the positive. Which means that you cannot really bypass/ignore/overlook the negative if the positive exists in the negative. It is like telling somebody to look at the dolphins without seeing the waterbody. Oxymoron, I say! My oxymoronic philosophy says, “Sharpen the dullness, dive into the negative to fish out the positives. Why be averse to negativity, as negativity actually teaches you the value of positivity.

The husband’s philosophical oxymoron is, “I shall always focus on the negative/s in the positive.” However, in his case he is like a race-horse wearing blinders, so that his mind is not diverted by the positive and he goes straight to the negative/s. 

The art of selective deafness (Oxymoron!) is mastered by my Grandmother and the husband. The Grandmother has been progressively heading in the direction of being audibly challenged, albeit selectively; due to age. The husband is audibly challenged, albeit selectively, due to an inner ear issue since childhood. The best part of their deafness is that they will always be able to hear what you definitely would not want them to hear. And I am sure many women experience this with their husbands. Likewise, many experience it with their aging folk at home.

Last night while going to sleep, or waiting for sleep to come to us, I told the husband, “You have absolutely no time for me. You’ve come home, done your yoga, had a few visitors, came to the retina doctor late, was on the phone, read the newspaper for over two hours and now we are sleeping.” There was absolute silence, as though my words had fallen upon a wall. Then I said in the same volume, tone, “You are ruining everything for us.” Promptly he responded, “No, Angel I am not ruining anything. I have a blister in my mouth, my arm is in pain, my nose is blocked, and I love you.” 

Two things here, accusations are heard crystal clear, but daily updates are bypassed/ignored/overlooked/not absorbed by the ears that selectively tell the brain what to respond to in the case of the selectively deaf. Through the husband’s misery his entire day went as usual, at work, on the phone, reading the newspaper, etc. However, the problem peaks when its time with the wife. The husband is my oxymoron, I know – sharp when needed, and dull when chooses to be. I love him too, only to love him more each day.

And dear, Oxymoronic reading this book, remember, life is all about unravelling the oxymorons, keeping the sharpened wisdom close and the dullness way, way away. That’s the way through the hormonal rollercoaster ride, and every phase of turbulence. It is on big serious  stand up performance scripted with many, many serious jokes. The secret is to make friends with the seriousness and laugh at the jokes it throws at you.

  Build on the oxymorons by philosophically humouring some examples