When I think of the color green I see St. Patrick’s Day, Kermit the Frog, The Emerald City, Scarlett O’Hara’s Dress at the barbecue at Twelve Oaks, the green light at an intersection, stems of a flower, grass, recycle, vegetables…
All of my green associates. I am sure there are more but for the time being this will suffice to bring forth what this meaningful title is searching to convey. As I write these words I imagine the letters of what I type to be hovering over me to then funnel down the crown chakra and trickle to my throat chakra to then my heart center, where they will change from a vertical movement to a horizontal one. From the heart chakra these letters radiate through my arms to my wrists to my palms, where they pulse into form, then out to my fingers where they meet the end of this rainbow, my keyboard. And click-ity clack the buttons go, creating a kirtan.
As I think of my green associates I reach for my Course in Miracles book and flip to the first lesson that starts the unwinding process of the mind: “Nothing I see in this room [on this street, from this window, in this place] means anything.” This lesson calls me to truly see the blank canvas in front of me and that I, I alone, give everything meaning and define its expression from my past experiences. For example, I see the color green because someone once told me this or that was the color green. But do I really know what “green” is? And what about those who are color blind and do not see green? Thus, I understand, with the help of The Course, that I have created what green is, and all of my associations with green that I have listed are just that, my past experiences that my mind has related with this specific color.
In list above, I do feel the a theme emerge in what I would assume a majority of us would say about green, “green means go.” Green gives sense of movement and growth. It’s in the flowers, recycling, growing vegetables, Kermit’s dynamic personality of the eternal optimist mixed with perfect pragmatism, the journey on the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City of Oz, and the sashay of the green dress Miss Scarlett O’Hara wore to the barbecue at Twelve Oaks.
As another St. Patrick’s Day passes and another year of a day full of green, I reflect on the areas in my life where I am waiting for the color green. So I ask myself, what am I waiting for? What permission slips do I think I need to live my life? Where on this journey am I not progressing towards Oz? Where on this journey am I not claiming my inner heroine, Miss Scarlett O’Hara, and living my life with complete knowing and utter gumption?
What comes up for me right now is the permission to dream new dreams. What is it that makes me happy? How do I want to express myself and my gifts in this world? If I could do anything at all, what would I do? All questions that give the green light to freely think and dream big. Yet I feel like this flow of thought is a trickle at best. It is like I am caught at a yellow light and my car has stalled. Others passing by, just waving as they pass by towards his or her own promise land. I sit at my intersection and I just wait. Its okay though, I have Sirius XM so I’m good at thumbing through channels. And at times someone does stop and ask if I need a lift or a familiar face just passes by to say hi. And often, I feel good sitting here waving at the passersby as I am encouraged that others know their way to their chosen promise land. I also like some of the eccentric cars I see, knowing that driver is joyful and flamboyant in his or her journey and making it a unique experience. It is beautiful to witness. A blessing, really, to see your fellow woman so happy and knowing her purpose in the world.
Sometimes I do get envious but I wait patiently as I have been creating my own experience in waiting. And waiting I realize is just a sweeter way of saying “excuses” but they are just that, excuses. I have been waiting to obtain more certifications, waiting to experience this or that, waiting for society to change, waiting for the judgements of others to fade, waiting for the tape in my head to stop playing the voices of my youth, waiting for the “perfect time,” whatever that is. All excuses. All justifications to keep me waiting by the side of the road and not participating in my own life and all that it could be. If only…
If only…what? If only I let it. If only I get back in the car and drive straight on through. Straight on through to the other side as Jim Morrison would so poetically say. Another being in this world that lived life in a full “green means go” color.
To wrap this up in a nice bow, green perhaps, then what am I waiting for? If color is meaningless, as the Course states, why wait for a color at all. Dorothy’s way home was not the Emerald City but the red ruby slippers she already had in her possession. And Scarlett remains a trailblazer with or without her beautiful green dress. Thus, I no longer wait for magical color. I just go…