Colors

Most of us have seen a rainbow at least once in our lives and a few sunsets on a hot summer’s day.
I can still hear my parents say “Don’t look directly into the sun.”
But I did – now waiting for those sun spots to dissipate. Should’ve listened – but I had to find out for myself.
Like most things in life.
Oh, sure I’ve been told by my parents to do certain things, like hold on to my hand while waiting for the lights to turn from green to red so we could walk across the street.
Like most, I’ve seen colors since I was born.
I’m very lucky for that.
But it’s not ‘til I came into a program on recovery that I really started to see.
There was a time when I was taught about colors.
Not just the simple color wheel, but the colors of life and I’m not saying the colors of people either.
My mother was a big influence with me with colors.
Seeing beyond the surface, she’d say.
Looking at the whole picture or at least trying to today.
Most people don’t even see the colors of living, too caught up in their daily lives, and when you see it, it’s usually due to the negative things we see or hear about.
Those people – what a shame.
We then see the colors, don’t we – including me.
How often I hear in life, “Are you blue,”
“So mad I can see red,”
“Green with envy,” or “White as a ghost.”
Even as a young man trying to fit in with the crowd – hearing “I dare yah, what are yah, chicken, you must be yellow.”
So I would do whatever they asked so I could fit in.
Now in recovery I try to see the colors of life that are helpful to me.
Hearing in the meeting that I attended, “To stay green.”
Hearing about that, “Pink cloud,” and hearing how dark resentments make one drink.
You could almost see how black that thought pattern is.
I ‘d hear, “I was beat up ‘til I was black and blue from using.”
But as time goes by I’m starting to see what my mom was trying to tell me.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover; don’t judge a person just by their appearance.”
Most people can’t or maybe even won’t see the colors around them and I’m not talking about someone who’s blind.
I have a friend who’s blind and he tells me about colors all the time.
He tells me that they’re beautiful to look at, and I shake my head, thinking that most people even with 20/20 vision including me won’t see how beautiful they are.
I hear, “Stay with the winners.”
“Not hanging out at the old haunts.”
Those black places of my mind.
My own Room Six.
Do these things have color?
Maybe not ones I can see – but the ones that I can feel most certainly.  
When I know today that I’m doing something that I’m not too sure about, I feel bad, sick – brindle brown.
Feeling low – being blue.
Doing something for someone without them knowing it or for the ones that we love. Feeling happy, content – being red as roses.
To finding that silver lining in those storm clouds of life.
When I started this journey the only color I seemed to see was black – well, maybe gray, due to the drinking and using ‘til I started to change.
What I thought was a light at the end of the tunnel didn’t turn out to be the headlight of the train coming at me, but the light of day on this seemingly, hopeless life.
When the change started to happen, so did my awareness of the colors around me.
Seeing with new eyes it seems, when I looked at life and all its beautiful Colors…