It seems humanity is moving monotonically towards red-flavored candy. I realize this is kind of an obtuse thing to say, but by this I mean it seems that we’re content just doing or experiencing the most obvious, bombastic, one-size-fits-all things. And yes, I realize that red is not actually a flavor but I bet you know what I mean by this.
I always use the term “red-flavored candy,” or just “red-flavored” in general, to refer to the fact that for most people I’ve spoken to, if presented with a bowl of suckers, lollipops, hard candies, or even the sour types like Sprees, and offered the chance to pick one, most people go for red. Most people don’t like nearly as much the greens, yellows, oranges, purples, blues, or anything else. Cherry, strawberry, raspberry—these tend to grab our attention. They tend to be the easiest, most obvious, and most crowd-pleasing, but there’s a world beyond red-flavored candies. As a matter of fact, for me, yellows are some of my favorites. I love lemon.
I mention this, too, as someone who’s lived in about a dozen different locales around the country and a tiny bit around the world as well. And I’ll just say it, San Diego wasn’t my favorite place to live. I loved it, but not top of list. For most of the places I’ve lived, the people I’ve known in those locals can’t imagine living any other place. Very specifically, California, Texas, and Washington State—whenever I’ve moved between those three states, which I’ve done a few times, the folks I’m leaving behind almost mourned for me. They mourned the combination of having to leave their idyllic place to move to the God-forsaken destination I was headed towards. And then the people at the other end had exactly the opposite view.
There’s no way around the fact that a sunny 72-degree day is absolutely lovely, and a place like San Diego has that in spades. But I’ve also really learned to fall in love with walking through the moss-covered forests in a light mist in the verdant, fertile Pacific Northwest. Places like the Pacific Northwest, for me, feel more sustainable and spiritual and offer a much richer variety of experiences than some of the red-flavored candy places.
If you ask a child what their favorite food is—and even a lot of adults—answers like pizza and spaghetti are frequent responses. We don’t hear bánh mì or tempura very often, but there’s a world beyond pizza. I guess maybe since I’m most of the way through this post, I’m finally figuring out what I’m trying to say: Don’t just stay with the obvious. Dig deeper. Be bolder. Accept that if you want the absolutely magical 9:38 PM sunset after returning from an alpine lake, you have to accept months of dreariness in the winter. There is no Yin without its corresponding Yang.
Maybe some of this is simply born out of necessity. It is simultaneously true that I’ve had a great deal of frustrating insomnia over the recent past as well as I’ve really enjoyed the many books that I’ve read in the middle of those nights trying to get tired enough to fall back asleep. Maybe I can’t physically do now what I could thirty years ago so I am trying to make the best of this new phase by falling in love with the sound of robin’s songs at twilight (one of my new favorite things). Would I rather be able to sleep effortlessly through the night and go for five mile runs during the day? I guess both yes and no. But I still often seek out yellow-flavored candies.
