We are all too familiar with rose tinted glasses being the lens through which ‘delusional’ people perceive certain red flags. Those flags tend to be normalised, to be ignored and forming part of one’s view without warnings.
I know that I’ve perceived my fair share of events through rose tinted glasses, ridiculously stubborn about insisting on my version of reality and perceptions as being acceptable. I know that I’ve certainly spent years on end ruminating over the what if’s and what could never be’s, without heeding the advice of my inner knowing and that of external kindred supporters. Only a greater power and my inner guides would know that to shed those lens that stopped serving me the moment I wore them out was but part of a process of growth and progress.
However, I’ve also started learning the meaning of what it means to perceive the world through grey tinted glasses. I think I’ve never thought much of them, for I refer to my prescription glasses with the transition lenses as the physical manifestation I associate with yet another lens through which I get to perceive reality.
I started noticing it when I realised how mellow colours started getting when I was walking around with these glasses that were protecting my eyes from the UV rays of the sun’s journey down under. Notorious for having a thinner ozone layer overhead, Australia enjoys brilliant sunlight that’s also laced with more dangers, so sunscreen is a MUST.
UV rays
I digress, but not at the same time. The UV rays, while hostile, represent the way that light will continually be part of our life in ways that are necessary, whether welcome or unwelcome. After my first winter, which continues to linger, I’ve truly learnt to treasure all the goodness that I have come to associate with daylight. Being named Day-na may be a fortunate coincidence, but I am plant-coded, as Ilanda mentioned once and that has stuck with me since then.
Glasses
The glasses I don for protection, while performing their important duty, has also led me to view the world in pastel shades that I do not necessarily appreciate. It represents the way that protective layers may not necessarily be serving our greater good, even if inherently good in intentions. There’s so much that can be masked or made obsolete when we find ourselves relying far too much on these sources of protection. However, to be able to afford and be in the company of protective elements that bolster our existences on a world that’s increasingly volatile and demands so much of us, it’s still such a blessing that I cannot ignore in good conscience.
My grey tinted glasses have functioned as both a physical and metaphorical representation of what it means to be human. To be surrounded by greyed out spaces of colours and objects while fully knowing well the technicolour the world comprises of, is both a fortunate and confusing phenomenon to behold.
I have always found myself toeing the line between the boldness and washed-out pastel ends of a spectrum in existing. On most days, deviating to the washed-out pastels, as bolstered by the lenses I choose to adopt, is far too easy. The boldness can be overly tricky to behold, often almost blinding us to the reality that could be far more palatable or too absurd to understand. Getting overly comfortable with the dulled down version of what we can see and process is always going to be an easier choice, but it only feels easy because there’s a lack of schema relating to the almost flipside of that. While binaries are almost impossible to pinpoint a reality that’s in constant flux and reinventing itself according to our viewpoints, it can also be helpful in grounding ourselves a little more. Leaning into these almost-absolutes gives us space to strike the balance we are innately capable of.
I’ve come a long way in trying to explain that grey tinted glasses have their purpose, the same way that rose tinted glasses do too. It’s intriguing to explore how we learn to associate different colours with various emotive and metaphorical purposes. I may know what I think I know now about these colours and how they might be significant to me, but I’d be utterly foolish to assume that I know it all (and I never will, and that’s extremely amazing).
With all that’s been said and done, and what’s to come, I know that my grey tinted glasses will continually serve their purpose in grounding me, while also reminding me to shed them once in a while. Balance is pretty amusing to figure out, that much I do know, and will gladly admit.
