The rain resonates with me this week. The cool misting during a morning run and the torrential downpour while sitting relaxed on the balcony. Even the chilly light rain while I walk to work.
After a week already pushing 90° it seems extra meaningful. I’ve given boots and my favorite cozy sweater one last wear until faSoon I’ll be tired of the gray, but today the rain is magic. I’ve curled up with open windows, enjoying the crisp fresh air. Soon I’ll be tired of the gray, but today the rain is magic.
I wrote this a few weeks ago. I’m not sure what it is (simple creative writing piece? Free form poem?) and didn’t necessarily intend to publish it, but it fits today.
I pause in these moments.
When the world I see doesn’t match my vision.
The colors aren’t as bright, the energy isn’t as positive and everything seems just a bit mean.
When my perspective doesn’t match what another sees.
I say one thing and my partner hears something different. Or the same realities become different memories.
When a reflection doesn’t match the truth I know.
My body doesn’t look like this, her first impression can’t be accurate or his action doesn’t echo the friend I know.
We all live in moments when truth becomes very gray.
With the grayness comes anxiety and as that fog swirls in, the world takes on a vagueness I hadn’t noticed before. Suddenly I want to claw my way out of this gray-world box. I need contrast. I crave black and white, yes and no, friend and foe.
But that doesn’t exist, does it? The polarization of black and white isn’t truth. Or, it shouldn’t be.
Truth is in the gray.
When I remember an event one way and my friend remembers it another, chances are neither of us is correct. Chances are the truth is somewhere in the middle; in the gray.
It is the space between black and white where creativity and discovery and passion exist. Where community grows and diversity thrives. In the gray spaces, status is challenged and new ideas are built.
This moment, standing the fog, I see variety and blending.
I see black and white and all shades of gray. I see solids and patterns like an endless kaleidoscope. I move, my perspective shifts, and I realize that each point of view really can be different and still be truth. I watch others move, study the ripples caused by their steps and am awed by the transformations those ripples create.
This time, the moment isn’t one of anxiety, but of wonder.