Brilliancy
April Ambles: Reflections of a Philosophical Forager — Day 12
Much of our lives is spent in darkness: the darkness of night, the darkness of our minds, the darkness of the unknown, the darkness of death. We come to expect darkness, to wear sunglasses, to shield our eyes from light, to wrap ourselves in a cocoon of comfort, away from colors that jar, away from flamboyancy, which might be interpreted as too intense by people we encounter along the way.
We dress ourselves in muted colors, choose muted backgrounds, paint our houses dull shades so that they won’t stand out.
Meanwhile, we put a lid on our enthusiasm, playing down our emotions, fearing that people might not be able to take a full dose of us, that animation might startle, might make us stand out like the house colors we avoid.
What if we lived in a world that is not afraid of color, that is not afraid of standing out, where brilliancy is the natural state of our minds, our attire, our entire being?
How much more might we accomplish if we follow brilliancy, if we celebrate it, if we enjoy it in others?
I believe in the colors of springtime, those bright yellows which jump out in field and woodland, the flashy red of the male cardinal and the subtle yet smoldering hue of his mate, the cerulean blue of a cloudless sky. I believe in autumn, with its scarlet oaks, its golden poplars, its purple mountain majesty. I believe in the splash of the spirit, in the soaring of the soul, the brilliancy of the human mind.
I believe in brilliancy.
For more amblings from the author, check out Child of the Woods: An Appalachian Odyssey.
