Green has been my favorite color for as long as I can remember. And not just any green. I've never been a fan of lime green or neon green. Fine colors, but middle of the pack, to say the least.
No, for me, it's always been about forest green.
Admittedly, I cannot exactly place why this is the case. Colors have always fascinated me in this. When it comes to other likes (foods, movies, music) there seems to always be a tangible qualifier to that desire. You like food because of the taste and texture, movies because they have great acting or an excellent plot, and music because of its beat or rhythm.
What does color have to offer in that department? With color, most people can't tell you why red or purple or orange is their favorite. I know, because I'm in much the same boat myself. I've never really been able to place why green, and even more narrowly, why that specific type of green, but I've had an affinity for it as long as I can remember.
This weekend, I was reminded why.
Hopping in a Jeep and barreling down I-20, I did my best to escape the seemingly persistent, consistent, never-ending crush of responsibility that is being a college student in 2018. Fleeing the city, I traded the grimy grays of Atlanta for the greens of the countryside.
I think it was in that fashion, I came to love my green. Not neon like the glaring lights of the city, but gentler, more stoic. The green of the forest comforts me, I believe because it is the green of renewal and plenty. The smell after it rains is called petrichor and I've always been drawn to the new life found in that rainfall. Greenness and health mixed to one.
Renewal is something that I've never not been in want of. I think that the case for most humans. We've never been perfect animals, despite our best efforts. Desire for perfection has thus parlayed itself into an admittance of that wrongdoing, and a subsequent desire to move forward, to not dwell.
Forwardness may, in fact, be the best of us.
And so, it is appropriate that I sought out renewal amongst the reborn matter of the Earth this past weekend. I would be remiss to say that there was no talk of Christ or religion. After all, I've found the details of Christ's story of sacrifice and redemption through love to be among the most powerful tales of renewal. And yet, Christ's wasn't the only story we told in the woods. We spoke of ourselves as well. To seek healing for the self without addressing the self in terms good, bad, and ugly would be disingenuous.
When I and three others sat on the rock in the river that was our topic: self and the perception of it. We discussed the adjectives we ascribed to our own beings, as well as those that others gifted us. We discussed how we thought and felt about those adjectives, the manner of adjectives a being as omniscient as God might ascribe to us, and where our true selves lie in the minds of all those in the middle.
In typical human fashion, none of us had perfect answers for such questions, though we did our best. Even in that, I can find something to admire. There is something to be said about struggling against great odds, even when we know those odds are too great.
I may not ever know everything, but that does not mean I cannot ask.
I was wrapped in green as I began the trek back the other way along the interstate. Green in person, but green in thought too. And in that moment, I think green became my favorite color all over again.
