Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Meditation in the Color of Orange
I am not an orange kind of person. I am not outrageous. I am not vivacious. I am not exciting, stimulating, aggressive, dramatic, impulsive, challenging, or dynamic. I do not have a hot temper. I am not an orange kind of person.
I am a careful, thoughtful, reflective, calm, reasonable person. Mostly. Not an orange kind of person.
My experience with orange is limited. Once I had an orange shirt. It was an oxford cloth, button-down collar, long sleeved shirt. Think deranged Brooks Brothers. My mother bought it for me on sale. I wore it when I worked as a camp counselor while I was in college. That was 40+ years ago, in the pre-psychedelic days. It was the summer we were told the counselors couldn't wear t-shirts or other knit shirts because they were too revealing. (Revealing, huh? Anyone looked at a department store ad recently?) We couldn't wear sweatshirts or jeans, either. (Too sloppy.) I saved my orange shirt for special occasions. Occasions when I felt especially cranky, like when we'd had several days of rain in a row. Everyone was cranky then. I declared an "Orange Blouse Day," and I fought back. I have never owned any other orange clothing. Not even socks. Not even underwear.
I've been picking up orange beads now and then, thinking I should challenge myself and use them. I really should. And I will. I will use orange beads for my May BJP.
I spread out my orange beads and looked at them. Then I decided to use aqua.
"Chicken!" I shouted at myself. I got out the orange beads and looked them over again.
Then I did the only thing a reasonable person could do. I went online and ordered more orange beads for my May BJP.