“Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” – Albert Einstein
We’re all familiar with the adages about looking beyond the rain to appreciate the full spectrum of life’s colors, to seek out the proverbial pot of gold and dancing leprechaun. But what about seeing our lives under that rainbow where a different sort of spells is woven? The sky may be the limit for our dreams ... but what do we do to sustain ourselves when the day-to-day grind is filled with more grays than indigos, more rust than gold?
“You have to work, it’s a part of life.”
“The bills aren’t gonna pay themselves.”
“So-and-so is sick, dying, had a car accident, left their spouse, got evicted, had a miscarriage ...”
The grays may be unavoidable. OK—they are unavoidable. Part of the full experience of being human. But how do we choose to think/feel/react/obsess about these disasters, traumas, and crises? Do we vent to let off steam and then go back to the big picture or do we get lost in the raindrops? Nobody ever drowned in a single raindrop or even a single teardrop. But some people seem determined to try. You know these folks ... the eye-rolling, huffing, puffing, whining people. You know them because they are you. We are all prone to an occasional case of the grays. The holidays may bring it out more or they may be vivid with colorful possibility ... again ... it all depends if you are looking up, over, under or around you.
I’m not merely advocating that we all adopt a head-in-the-sand, Pollyanna, little Miss Sunshine Stepford approach to problems. That would be absurd and insincere. But stop drowning in the raindrops and look up at the colors once in awhile. Or look under the sky at your life through a new lens. If you think about the arc of light, capturing and refracting its shimmering incandescence ... that is not merely the antidote to the grays. It is not a cure, or a placebo ... it is its counterpart, its reflection. Life neither has to be a crisis nor a great adventure. It is usually both ... it just depends on who you share your umbrella with. Will you pick someone who makes you laugh at the rain, dance in it or seek shelter and watch it from a safe place, dry and warm? Maybe a little of both? Up to you.