I often think of people in forms of colors. It seems to be evidenced by their soul. Some moan with a deep mahogany, others shimmer with the light of sea glass, or are wrapped in the silvery-gray of sage, or the color of spilt pomegranate. And these colors hold different significance. They resonate with the deepest of emotions. Sadness and sorrow, love and lust, innocence and delight, wisdom and grace.
And some shine with a warm and golden yellow. It is echoed in their smile and birthed in the kindness of their voice. It offers happiness and hope. It offers life in a natural confidence.
In this recognition of the colors of others' souls, I began thinking of my own. What would this color be? To me? To others?
And I came to realize, in my search for the warmth and hope of yellow, that I wanted my soul to be reminiscent of sunflowers, for my smile to offer a hopeful and refreshing color of lemon, and for my words to be of golden butter somehow giving kindness. That is what I wanted my soul to reflect. But looking further, inside, I didn't feel the warmth and hope and kindness of such things. I felt the burden of moist dirt, earthy moss, and rotting leaves. I noticed a pain of loneliness. And it seemed to echo a color of sadness in deep browns, in a moan of mahogany, and the dimming light of yellow leaves turning.
As I begun thinking of and noticing the people in my life whom offer such a golden hue, I began looking for yellow around me, instead of in me. For happiness and hope.
And I found it.
I found it in the yellow of school buses. In the yellow of backpacks meant for adventure. In the yellow of raincoats and bananas. In the yellow of fields of sunflowers and ragweed. In the yellow of my favorite shirt. And then in the yellow of leaves once green. It was all around me.
And I saw it reflected
in the people around me too. All kinds of yellows found in the light of their
eyes, in the honesty of their smiles, in the lightheartedness of their jokes,
and in the kindness of their words. But I found other colors as well. The pink of
the lightest rose that offered kindness too. The dark green of fresh dewy moss
that felt like home. The wisdom found in the color of sage. Hospitality, in the
color of oak.
We fulfill different roles. And our souls are evidence of such diversity. And yellow mustn’t be the only color to offer happiness and hope. For sorrow and delight, melancholy and love, hope and despair, pain and happiness, all must be felt. And when I looked around I realized, everyone showed some kind of yellow, whether dim or bright, crisp or warm, a little or a lot. Hope could always be seen. In the wrinkles next to someone’s eyes or in the crooked teeth of another's smile or in the steadiness of one's hands. I found it.
So, tell me my soul is yellow.
