Our own soul’s color
Abby Patrick | Monday, March 29, 2021
The other day, my friends and I were eating breakfast on South Quad, enjoying the wonderful sunshine we seem to have been so graced with lately and allowing ourselves the respite of a slower weekend morning. In the course of the more or less meaningless chatter of the morning and our easy companionship, we got to talking about colors, specifically which color each one of us embodied. Some people’s colors were more obvious, and others required heated debate to decide. The overarching question of color, however, reminded me of something I had once said about myself freshman year: that I have a pastel soul, soft and easy going, but also undeniably present, like a Monet painting — quiet when you first meet me, but you see more the longer you look. More than a little bit pretentious and presumptuous for freshman me to observe of myself, but I don’t think that makes it any less true. So I thought after this year of forced growth and reflection, I would walk back through the colors of my soul and those of my lovely friends and see if anything has changed. Now as a necessary note, the color of your soul is not the same as the color of your aura. No, this color goes way more deep and speaks to who you fundamentally are as a person — no pressure.
Green: One of my friends, her soul is definitely green, a deep, but bright green. She is sensitive, attuned to the people around her in a tangible and thoughtful way, reacting and adapting to her environment, not unlike a plant (in the very best way). She also carries with her the warmth a room with well-loved plants always seems to have (do you see a theme?), an inviting and positive presence that makes you want to stay. Telling her your secrets is like whispering them into the depths of the forest — you know they’re safe because only the trees can hear and they’d never betray your trust and neither would she.
Navy: Another friend is navy blue. A very specific shade of course, not too dark, not too light. Her navy conveys her self-assurance and attachment to the sureties of life. Some may dismiss navy as a safe color, not very exciting or surprising — those people don’t know a navy person like I do. Navy has a gravity and a dignity, sure, but her particular navy has a quirky turn and specific utility in her enjoyment of life. It is a navy like the evening sky just after the sun has gone down, still warmed and alive from the heat of the day, sprinkled with the bravest and brightest stars. It both grounds her and allows her to explore, a transition between what is safe and what is new. Everyone needs an anchor and navy is hers, the foundation of the way she sees the world and that’s pretty lovely.
Gray-blue: Another friend, her soul is gray-blue with flecks of gold, like deep water on a sunny day. She can sometimes be elusive — there is an undertone of depth and mystery to her, not unlike the subtle secrecy of great expanses of water. She is an empath by nature and absorbs all of the worries of those around her. But, as much as she takes on the sometimes cold depths of others, she also carries with her an undeniable presence of light and warmth — being friends with her is like basking in a sunbeam, she makes you feel caught in a golden glow. The twists and turns and unexpected quirks of her character are as captivating as the glittering lights that flit across Lake Michigan in the late afternoon sun.
Magenta: My roommate is a sriracha lover by definition and that works oddly well to help describe her person. She doesn’t have a red soul, that’s a little too fiery. I don’t know she would agree, but to me her soul is a bright pink, somewhere between magenta and fuchsia. She is a presence in a room, and lights up when with her friends. There is just a little bit of spice, a spark of a liveliness that stems from her attention to the things that make life fun and joyful. Giving is a part of her being and pink in some way just speaks for her ability to spread her joy to everyone she cares for.
My own colors are harder to pin down — it depends on how well I know myself that day. My own impression of my soul can be anywhere from sky blue to pale yellow, dusty orange to dark green. If I had to pick the most consistent color, I think it would have to be violet. Why is that you may ask? That’s for me to know, and you to wonder.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.