I recently ordered yoga bolsters for a bunch of my students from Halfmoon, an excellent Vancouver-based prop maker. The bolsters come in four colors, so I had to ask, “What color do you want?”
“Oh, any color,” a couple of them replied. I insisted that they make a choice. Others indicated their preferred color without my prompting. One provided a second choice, and another ordered two types of bolsters in the same color.
The color question reminded me of my long-lost friend Dan, a San Francisco lawyer. When I knew him a decade ago, he was working at a large firm. Slightly older than his peers, he was hard-driving, yet palpably less stressed than the typical overworked, bitter associate. I remember him as eccentric, upfront, and always smiling.
I immediately pointed the question to myself: what color is me?
Why, I had multiple favorite colors! I could identify the definite no’s but which felt like home? I couldn’t help qualifying my choices: I liked one color for clothing, another for kitchen wall paint, another for yoga props!
I was slightly vexed that no single color leaped out at me. If I didn’t know my favorite color, surely I didn’t know myself. After a misguided detour into law, how could I find the right path if I couldn’t even choose a favorite color? (Note: Those career books like What Color Is Your Parachute? were compelling in concept but ultimately useless.)
Today I am clearer in my likes and dislikes, and I’ve found a compatible path in yoga/writing/editing. I’m not a snap decision maker but I’m negotiable: no answer is set in stone and maybe that’s okay.
Images: Crayola Crayons, www.colourlovers.com