Aisle 9

Blue Booties, First Kiss, Autumn Moon, Late Day Sun, Cypress Point, Cherry Pickin. What sound like chapter titles in a novel are really just a few names of the hundreds of paint colors I perused at a local hardware store the other day. Still as the hanging paint brushes and pyramids of tape, I became a permanent fixture in aisle 9 as I tried to decide what color to paint the walls in our house. Ships Ahoy or Blue Ribbon? Prickly Pear or Pink Persuasion? Pretzel Twist or Allspice? My eyes began glazing over until the colors started to mix together like my horrendous attempt at a tie die shirt in high school chemistry.

My thoughts were all over the place, too: “Chocolate Sundae? No, too much brown with our wood trim, brown couches, and tan carpet and tiles. Pale Daffodil? Nope, some are not a fan of yellow. Candy Apple Red? No thanks, too vavavoom. White? Boring. What if I choose something, go through the whole painting process – moving furniture, taping, paint trimming, rolling paint, removing tape, cleaning up, replacing furniture – only to find out I hate the color? I’M going to need a chocolate sundae after this…”

While I studied the hordes of paint idea brochures and colored cards splayed out in front of me, I noticed my stomach start to turn sour. When I began to notice my rapid breathing, as well, I thought, “Am I really feeling panicked just from trying to choose a ridiculous paint color?!” It was then and there in aisle 9 that I gave myself a mental shake. “It’s only paint!” I chided myself. “If you don’t like it you can always paint over it with something else. It’s not like you’re deciding which tattoo will go on your bulging bicep for the rest of your life. And it truly doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about the color. It’s what makes YOU happy. Just make a decision, and make the best of it!”

After this pep talk, I grabbed my Cactus Shade sample and made a beeline for the paint desk. As the paint was doing the cha-cha in the mixing machine, my insides joined in the dance. I had done it. I defeated my usual, paralyzing fear of making the wrong decision. Victory was mine. It took hundreds of colors to show me that I will be okay if I just trust myself. My time in aisle 9 taught me that sometimes we just have to jump in and believe in ourselves – that no matter the outcome, we will make it okay. If we just believe in ourselves, anything is possible.