Giraffe Socks

It’s a gray day. And I’m wearing gray. Top to bottom, inside and out. And I wonder, am I feeling gray? Why all the gray, Patsy?

I don’t know about you, but when life requires a little extra thought, when it calls for a dose of self-reflection, I tend to retreat to sort it through. And only then ~ after I’ve sorted enough to have a sensible conversation about whatever it is, or sorted enough to be receptive to what someone else might have to say – do I share it, if at all. It might have turned into a nugget of wisdom by then, or a revelation, or simply a re-telling of when such-and-such made me examine such-and-such. But I don’t wear stuff on my sleeve. Nothing against those who do – in fact, who knows, you might be better off! It’s just not my way.

So I see myself on this gray day, all in gray, feeling gray. Not gray as in “down in the dumps” gray ~ but gray as in “not black and white”, not crisp and clear. And I see that I’m feeling a bit edgy. Uncertain. And definitely a bit vulnerable. I’ve shared parts of myself recently that I didn’t expect to. Good people, and it’s all okay, but still, I feel more exposed than usual. It’s as if a little sign popped up that reads: “Check it out. Dip in the road. Proceed with caution.”.

So I’ve dressed to hide. To soften the edges. To soothe. To avoid creating static or “noise”. To seek balance. To retreat and sort. Gray is a good color for quiet observation.

Then I look down, and tucked under the cuff of my gray jeans, I see my giraffe socks. (Yes, don’t make fun, they’re quite cute, really.) And am glad I’ve also dressed to remind myself to keep it light, that “life’s too mysterious, don’t take it too serious” (which is really bad grammar, whoever made that up, but the point is well taken. 🙂 ).

And that is that. Have yourself a good day. I’m off to the gray horizon to ponder my vulnerability while chomping on the nearest Acacia tree.