an alternative to goal-setting: experiment
My sister-in-law Kate, Marcus’ younger sister, is a ninja when it comes to colour. Her entire house is painted in bright reds, fuschias, blues and greens. She wears mixed patterns, metallics, bright colours every day. She wears florals with stripes. Paisleys with leopard prints. And no matter what, she looks absolutely glorious. And I used to seethe with jealousy.
Last Christmas, when she and her family visited, I expressed that jealousy. “If I tried to wear colour like you, I would look like a damned clown,” I pouted. “There’s a reason I only wear black. I don’t know how you know how to mix colours and patterns like that.”
She laughed. “You would not look like a clown, Karen,” she insisted. “Besides, you already know how to mix patterns and colours. Look at your house.”
She’s right, of course: my house is full of colour and pattern, thanks to rugs and furnishings (even though my walls are a pale grey, and not a riot of primary colours like hers are). She continued: “You simply need to wear colour and mix patterns until they feel right. And then just go with it.”
At the time, it felt like she was asking me to simply become a nuclear physicist — damned near impossible. But there was something about the idea that intrigued me. After all, I’d just moved into a new house. We were finally re-starting our life again after losing everything the Harvey, and building it back up again. I was still in the process of replacing my clothing. What did I have to lose? So I opened my mouth and surprised myself with the words that came out of it.
“Okay. This is my new year’s resolution then: for 2019 I’m not going to buy a single item of clothing that is plain black — if it has black in it, it has to be in a pattern. And I’m going to wear predominantly colours other than black and/or patterns every day.”
“There you go,” she smiled. “Report back.”
For the most part, I’ve kept my word (you can see a few sample selfies I’ve taken over the past 11 months at the top of this post). I did buy a black dress last week, but otherwise, every other item of clothing I’ve bought this year has been coloured or patterned. And while at the beginning of the year, choosing something to wear that wasn’t all black felt really difficult, nowadays, I would say I rarely wear black (although I still do prefer dark colours if I’m traveling, or I’m speaking on stage. In those instances, I try to choose navy). What’s interesting is that now, black seems pretty boring to me. My closet, which was mostly black before this year, is now mostly bright and colourful. I default to colour. Colour feels like light. And joy. It literally boosts my mood.
What’s interesting is that when I made that resolution to Kate 11 months ago, I considered it an experiment, less than a goal. I secretly thought I would end up going back to my beloved black at the end of the year, but was willing to see if anything happened. And something did: I realized that I loved how certain colours made me feel — like red. And hot pink. And blues and greens. Who knew?
Just yesterday, I was talking to a friend who is coming out of a difficult time herself, and we remarked how sometimes big challenges that involve big changes can often feel like a gift in hindsight — because they force you to really get clear on what’s important, yes, but also they can inspire experimentation as you work your way back to thriving. And there’s something actually really freeing in experimentation, because with experimentation, there’s no right or wrong answer — just discovery.
Anyway.
The upshot is that by experimenting with colour and pattern this year, I discovered how much my preference for black wasn’t so much a preference, as it was that I was simply ignoring how I could use colour as a form of self-care. And that feels like a huge discovery for me. And as the year winds down, I’m eager to think about how what other experimentation project might be fun.
Because that might be my resolution for 2020.
Soundtrack: Cascades of colour by Ananda Project
don't forget to mark the milestones.