Pink socks

Pink socks

Last night I went to my weekly meditation class. It was rather cold. A little cooled down by the chilly evening wind, I stept into the small building. I put my jacket away opposite of to the door to the zendo. Placed my bag underneath and put off my shoes. In a blink of an eye, I saw the bright pink colour of my socks appearing in front of me… I felt a rush of fear bubbling up in my stomach, uncomfortable. I forgot about them. I knew I put them on this morning. I had to go to work where nobody would see them. But I forgot about the meditation class this evening. I had to put off my shoes. I suddenly remembered the time when I bought the pack of socks. I hesitated because of this one pink pair. Although with uncertainty, I bought them. After all, I could just not wear them.

My instant thought was to worry about the judgement of others. What would they think about me wearing pink socks. Do they think I’m gay? Would they laugh at me, find me stupid? At this point I started to realise my thought stream. I started to see that my inner insecurity was firing in all cilinders. Dealing with the judgement of others is hard. Being shamelessly yourself isn’t easy. I like to fit in. Not stand out, be in the spotlight. At that moment, these pink socks attract too much attention. I was not comfortable with it. What is your ‘pink’ sock in this life? What are you afraid to show?

The fear slowly fated. I could just take them off as many other people do. But I decided that it would be a good exercise to just keep them on. Just to deal with the judgement of others. Pushing through. During the class I often felt uncomfortable. I accepted the feeling. And you know what, probably nobody really noticed.

Isn’t it funny that colours are associated with certain groups, people, symbols in our society? Pink is for girls and blue for boys. And even bright blue is something men associate with babies; baby blue right. It is not easy to break through these stigmas. And how are these even formed?

In the Toastmasters meeting of this week, a speech was given about why people like certain colours and completely dislike others? It is due to the society and how you are grown up, or it is something genetic and you got it from your family? The presenter wasn’t sure either. Also, no clear results have been found in studies. So what would you think? Is it because your mother really liked soft blue that you have one of your walls in this colour? Is it some kind of association you have with a colour? Or is it something from deep within, baked into your soul?

I personally really like bordeaux / dark red. I know for a fact that I associate it with a warm feeling. For me if I think about this colour, I feel warmth in my hearth. So why is this? I feel like it has to do with my experiences in life. At my parents place they have a red wall behind the wood stove. During the cold months, when I was younger (and still when I visit), I snuggle in front of the stove. I accept the heat completely and let it spread its heat as far into my bones as possible. I think I associated this warm comfortable feeling with the colour red. So what is your favourite colour and why? there might be a fascinating story behind it 😉


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