Days like colours

(Übersetzung ins Deutsche ist hier)

One day, as I woke up, the day was less grey than usual. I took my breakfast, watched my clock to see if there are some minutes left to read something, and then rushed to catch my train. Once inside, this little colour peeked back into my mind …

Some days are green. And I’m not talking about weather here, it may more depend on my inner attitude to it. Those days are calm, peaceful, and in a weird, silent way: happy. Like fresh grass. Wide forest to be explored. Cows, squirrels, birds, they fascinate me, as if they were saying: I’m fine, how are you?

Other days are red. There may not be a media report about them, but to me they feel like catastrophes on their own. A forgotten password. An upset colleague. Personal challenges that I’m running away from. A response of authority that feels unjust. Or simply the threat of choice. They feel like thunderstorms inside me, trees are bowing down and fighting hard, the birds stopped singing, and only music can touch my soul.

But lately, most of my days were just plain old grey. Like the city I’m living in. Steadiness is important, self-discipline a virtue, and yet, my soul longs for beauty, for growth, for encounters, children that I can play with, and friends that share my life. And yet, nothing seems to happen. Every day, I wake up at x, take my breakfast ‚til x+30min, travel ‚til x+1,5h, work ‚til x+9,5h, then eat again, then check my emails, hang out, then sleep. Again. Grey. In the background, oil pest & ravaging fires are waiting to grasp me, patiently.

Now I’m not against grey days, or would like to live in a green-only world. I could go on to describe violet (spiritual), blue (knowledge-heavy) and yellow (organizing) days, and some white days, where time seems to stand still, are actually refreshing. I need a mixture of it. But as I said, lately, my world turned into a black-white television set, badly tuned, nonetheless attracting attention.

But today, little sparkles of red, green, blue, yellow, like a rainbow, were dropping into the image. Where did they come from? From above? Just an illusion? Am I still dreaming?

I was hearing the voice of my Father, saying: „I am with you. Go on. Continue to live the life that I am giving you, but don’t forget who you are living it for. I will care for you. Trust me.“ And the windows closed again, and my daily routine started over. Would it be a special day? For heaven’s sake, I don’t care. I will follow. Where You lead me, I will go. Whether desert or snow, banana plantations or rubbish tip, forests or villages of concrete, in Your arms, I am safe. I will delight myself in You, and You will give you the desires of my heart. (Psalm)

Days are like colours: What You See Is What You Think About Them.

Ein Gedanke zu „Days like colours

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