Today I’m grateful for rainbows.

 
My five year old niece used to tell me her favorite color was rainbow. Pretty much the best answer ever given to that basic question.

One of my earliest memories is going out into our front driveway in NE Portland and my dad pointing out to me a rainbow. I am sure I didn’t understand how the mixture of light and rain creates the perfect prism in the sky. I don’t remember much detail other than the incredible excitement I felt seeing that beauty unexpectedly appearing. 

Now rainbows symbolize inclusion. My dear friend put a rainbow in her car window in 1999. People heckled her and screamed obscenities because of assumptions and a lack of acceptance. They’d peer out at us from their own cars, curious. I remember not understanding how people could hate others because of the beautiful rainbow and what it symbolized. I almost wanted her to take down her rainbow to protect her- or perhaps make me feel more inconspicuous. Over time I’ve realized one should never hide their rainbow or the symbol that best represents them.  

Rainbows always give me pause. I can be in the busiest moment or be so rushed that I can’t pause for even a moment. But when I see that rainbow- that beautiful color- I always have to stop and simply breathe deeply. 

On our last day in Kenya, we were rushing from one place on the safari to the next- trying to savor and experience everything possible. But a rainbow stopped us from being so preoccupied with the experience that we forgot to live in the moment. It made us pause. And breathe. 

  
I’m so grateful for this gift of nature, color, and symbolism.