With 70’s hits playing the soundtrack of my life ages five to 15 and candles lit, I closed my eyes to relax, breathe, and meditate without calling it meditation. It took some time to settle and convince my dog this wasn’t a new game. I allowed memories to trip along and float by as music walked me through the decade.
Eventually, the mental parade slowed and I focused on my breathing, drawing in evenly and then allowing it to escape, long and low. At my most recent appointment for massage, the therapist asked me to demonstrate the relaxation breathing I employ. In and out, in and out. He commented that, instead of pushing the air to exhale, I need to release it naturally. Apparently, in order to fully relax, one should not force one’s breath. No idea why this type of thing doesn’t occur to me, but thankful my massage therapist reviewed and corrected. How often is one observed while seeking tranquility, after all?
Once I calmed, my mind and my breathing, the mandalas appeared. There were several arranged in a pattern, moving around each other, but they were all black and white, absolutely no color involved.
Black and white mandalas? Then, the message arrived in my mind. “Let colors come in.” Well, that’s what I’ve been doing, waiting for colors to wash me free from fibromyalgia and depression. Reframing this, instead of standing by for my life to be rescued from a pallid, anemic existence, letting colors in may be more active than holding a place for them. Since then, I’ve painted with acrylics on paper and canvas twice, captured a photo of a gorgeous sunset viewed from our back deck, and shopped on Amazon for colorful, inexpensive wall art to replace the black, brown, and pale yellow complexion of my bedroom. I found a couple of items and added some considerations to my shopping list, more than I could use, because I continue to come across pictures in which I’m interested. Finalizing further decor decisions must wait until after Christmas because I’m currently supervising the display of outdoor holiday color, combining old and a little bit of new. Here’s to splashes, splotches, and sprays of color!