The first time I saw a golden hue around someone’s head and shoulders, I was thrilled… and genuinely scared. The warm pulsating yellow was as clear as day and yet no one had mentioned to me that they’d ever seen such a thing before. Why then, was I? It was beautiful in a way that felt spiritual. So it had to be good. It touched me deeply, running tingles up my arms and neck. So it had to be right. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t expected. It wasn’t part of the world I was raised in.
I smiled at him serenely as I watched it ebb and flow. I tried to contain my tears at his beauty, to not disturb him by telling him what I was seeing. I didn’t say a word. But I’d sneak a peek any time I could to see if he was still glowing. I wanted to know if I’d imagined it or if it was still there. Sure enough, every time I looked, there it was. The golden glow with tufts of pink warming his head and shoulders before me.
* * *
When was it, how old were you, when someone told you how the world works? Do you remember the face that told you trees are green, flowers bloom in the sun, the seasons are the same every year, and your imagination isn’t real? Was it the same person who told you that sentences are read left to right, that each letter has a different sound, and that not only is sugar bad for you, but germs are, too? Or was it a different person, the same one who also told you that love is good, but money is necessary?
Did you ever draw a tree in the 80’s only to have your teacher tell you to use your head, that trees aren’t purple?
Did you ever try to convince your parents that you really did see colors around that man’s head?
Or what about that dream you had? Were you the only one who knew what you felt was real, a foreboding of what was to come?
I was raised in mainstream American culture that valued the individual, but more than that, a culture that prized the individual who toed the line, who upheld the tried and true, who continued a pattern set out by those who came before me.
Mavericks were disrupters.
True artists were freaks.
People who didn’t make money didn’t earn equal respect.
I saw these things and kept anything outside those lines to myself.
Was that ever you, too?
Who are we when we don’t fit the mold? Are we disrupters? Antagonistic feather rufflers? Freaks? Or are we moving something invisible toward something brighter? A future that makes our imagination sing even if it makes no sense to the mainstream mind, that mind that keeps threatening to rip the reins from our soulful hands? What if the rule-breakers, the creatives, the dreamers, the You in me and the Me in you, are the few who can get us through these new times with our hearts still intact? Shall we dream that for a minute together…yes, why don’t we?
* * *
It feels to me like we’ve stepped into a new era, a flavor of life we haven’t ever tasted before:
*An era where colors aren’t just for our eyes, but for ‘seeing’ deeper things.
*An era where flowers don’t just bloom to look pretty, but where they are needed. With energetic messages. For those open enough to hear.
*An era where seasons are no longer predictable, but reflect the state of our being, showing us what we need and what we don’t need. As a people. On a deeper level.
*An era where imagination is the only path forward, for if we cannot imagine it, how can it be?
*An era where sugar grounds the soaring and homeopathic germs free us from our unhealthy ways.
*An era where…love is the new sun to realign ourselves with, to revolve around, because nothing else matters more.
If we imagine this, together, what then will you be in this new era gifted to both you and me?
What color will you glow?
What flower will be your guide?
What will you imagine into being?
And what, pray tell, will your love do if
Love itself is given full reign?
