The blue yoga mat that changed my perspective.
It should have been a simple question to answer. Instead, my answer, or lack thereof, led to a session of deep reflection. Well, as deep as you can get during a 20-minute car ride home when you’re prone to episodes of minor road rage.
Two weeks ago, I broke from my usual Tuesday routine of doing nothing and headed into town for a relaxing Tuesday yoga class with my awesome instructor, Mandy. During the 60-minute class, I didn’t think about much except my breathing, the pain I felt in my right wrist, and what new patterned yoga pant I was going to buy next (an embarrassing addiction). It was after class, still holding onto that Savasana elation, that I faced my toughest challenge of the night sneakily wrapped up in an innocent question.
That question?
Very innocently, Mandy asked, “Is blue your favorite color?”
Taken aback, I stared at her for a moment and tried to figure out where she would have come up with such an out-of-the-blue question (yeah, the pun’s intended).
“Um, no. Actually, it’s purple,” I replied politely.
She kept smiling at me like she knew a dirty little secret about me that I didn’t know about myself. Then said, “I wondered if it was blue because. . . “She finished her thought by shifting her gaze to my bright blue yoga mat – a Christmas gift with a lingering chemical smell that threatened a contact high – and my eggshell-blue fleece jacket.
I laughed uneasily. “I guess I do have a lot of blue things. But, no, I’m pretty sure my favorite color is purple. It’s been purple since I was a kid. Some things just don’t change.”
Or do they?
The walk from the classroom to the car was troubling. I started listing all the blue items I owned, and the mounting evidence was hard to ignore. There was my coveted, patent leather Michael Kors purse in royal blue, two royal blue sweaters I wore like a uniform, the blue and white quilt tossed across the end of my bed, the blue-striped shower curtains in the hall bathroom, etc., etc. The list went on and on.
The only purple item I owned was the journal I used to originally penned this post. Maybe I was color-blind, but it seemed some things had changed.
How could I have not noticed this apparent change? Why was I still holding onto this old notion? What other ideas of myself were I holding onto that were glaringly no longer accurate?
Life evolves and so do we whether we realize it or not. If something as trivial as a favorite color had changed, there must be other parts of my character that may have changed too.
What did I figure out on that car ride home?
Holding onto things that no longer evoke passion, consciously or subconsciously, keeps us from moving forward toward our true selves. I don’t know what the future holds, but perhaps I should be more willing to adjust to its ebb and flow instead of being so rigid.
Namaste, my friends!
Have you experienced change that shifted your perspective? Share your stories with me in the comments.
