Color Walk

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Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good,

Speaker 1 and then you fall asleep.

Speaker 1 I'm Catherine Nikolai.

Speaker 1 I write and read

Speaker 1 all the stories you'll hear on Nothing Much Happens

Speaker 1 with Audio Engineering by Bob Wittercheim.

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Speaker 1 for just about a dime a day.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 I'm going to tell you a bedtime story. It's a soft, simple place to rest your mind, a way to keep you from wandering.

Speaker 1 And just by listening, I'll train your brain to respond in kind, more quickly and easily. I'll tell the story twice,

Speaker 1 and I'll go a little slower the second time through.

Speaker 1 If you wake later in the night,

Speaker 1 turn an episode right back on.

Speaker 1 You'll be back to sleep before you know it.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight is called Color Walk.

Speaker 1 And it's a story about a soft way

Speaker 1 to move through the world on a spring day.

Speaker 1 It's also about a box of crayons in the desk drawer, a thin jacket, a cool breeze,

Speaker 1 storefronts and shop windows,

Speaker 1 and elevating the everyday

Speaker 1 with calm attention.

Speaker 1 Lights out, friends. Get snuggled down into your sheets and get your favorite pillow in just the right spot.

Speaker 1 Let's do a quick muscle release tonight. And we'll pair it with your deep breaths.
We're going to do three tonight. I know.
We're getting wild over here.

Speaker 1 I want you to breathe in.

Speaker 1 And squeeze all the muscles in your lower body. Squeeze your legs, your glutes, even your toes, hold it, and then sigh it out.

Speaker 1 Breathe in.

Speaker 1 Squeeze everything in your upper body, arms and fists.

Speaker 1 Hold it and let it go.

Speaker 1 Okay, one more. Breathe in.

Speaker 1 And just squeeze everything, temples to toes.

Speaker 1 Squeeze and hold one more second and

Speaker 1 feel the release of the tension in your body.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 Color walk

Speaker 1 From the kitchen table

Speaker 1 I could see the treetops moving in the breeze.

Speaker 1 It didn't look too strong,

Speaker 1 not even a wind,

Speaker 1 just a zephyr

Speaker 1 that stirred the new buds as they grew.

Speaker 1 My mug was nearly empty,

Speaker 1 but it still felt warm and comforting in my hands,

Speaker 1 and I savored the last sips.

Speaker 1 My gaze fell on to my plate,

Speaker 1 empty but for a few crumbs and a smear of raspberry jam from the English muffin I'd just enjoyed.

Speaker 1 I traced my finger along the plate's edge.

Speaker 1 It was plain white porcelain,

Speaker 1 but with a rim of deep blue

Speaker 1 and it reminded me of the thin-stemmed grape hyacinths

Speaker 1 that were popping up in the flower bed

Speaker 1 beside my front door

Speaker 1 I smiled into the dregs of my tea as an idea occurred to me

Speaker 1 a way to spend the rest of the morning

Speaker 1 sparked by the blues of the plate

Speaker 1 and the matching flowers.

Speaker 1 I hadn't gone on one in an age,

Speaker 1 but spring was the perfect time

Speaker 1 to revisit a favorite pastime.

Speaker 1 Yes, today

Speaker 1 was made

Speaker 1 for a color walk.

Speaker 1 The idea was simple.

Speaker 1 Choose a color

Speaker 1 and then go for a walk,

Speaker 1 noticing all the places that color showed up.

Speaker 1 Each instance

Speaker 1 would become like a mooring post for a wandering mind.

Speaker 1 A color walk could be a solemn, moving meditation,

Speaker 1 or a jolly game of eye spy.

Speaker 1 Moment to moment, it could be both.

Speaker 1 And in the spring,

Speaker 1 as the world leapt into color,

Speaker 1 opportunities to notice,

Speaker 1 to pay calm attention,

Speaker 1 would abound.

Speaker 1 I set my plate and cup in the sink

Speaker 1 and went to a drawer in my desk with an idea.

Speaker 1 I wanted a way to pick a color for today

Speaker 1 without getting caught in an internal debate

Speaker 1 about which would be best.

Speaker 1 Sometimes,

Speaker 1 even when a decision

Speaker 1 didn't really matter, I could slip into a loop of comparing and rethinking.

Speaker 1 This walk was meant to be a way to rest that part of myself.

Speaker 1 So I needed to do something like

Speaker 1 flip a coin or roll a color die.

Speaker 1 From my drawer,

Speaker 1 I took out a familiar yellow and green box,

Speaker 1 the big one with a sharpener on the back that I'd treated myself to

Speaker 1 on my last trip to the stationery store.

Speaker 1 I closed my eyes

Speaker 1 and flipped the top open,

Speaker 1 letting my fingers trail over the waxy tips of the crayons.

Speaker 1 They'd come organized, of course,

Speaker 1 but I was in the habit of pulling them out by the handful as I used them

Speaker 1 and sticking them back in willy-nilly.

Speaker 1 So I truly had no idea,

Speaker 1 even what family of color I might pull.

Speaker 1 My finger stopped on one,

Speaker 1 and I slid it from the pack.

Speaker 1 I paused to feel

Speaker 1 where the wax met the paper,

Speaker 1 how it was peeled back a bit

Speaker 1 from when I'd sharpened it last.

Speaker 1 I wondered if it would be a yellow,

Speaker 1 which I would spot in every daffodil and yield sign,

Speaker 1 or a shade of blue,

Speaker 1 like the sky to day.

Speaker 1 But when I finally blinked my eyes open,

Speaker 1 I saw I'd drawn good old burnt sienna.

Speaker 1 Huh, I said aloud.

Speaker 1 Didn't see that coming.

Speaker 1 This was a color that had

Speaker 1 helped me draw many tree trunks and brick house fronts

Speaker 1 since my first pack of crayons

Speaker 1 big enough to include it in grade school.

Speaker 1 It was a utilitarian stronghold of a color.

Speaker 1 Not one I'd have picked myself for a whimsical stroll in the spring, and that made it perfect for today.

Speaker 1 I tucked the crayon into my pocket,

Speaker 1 for some reason, wanting to bring it along,

Speaker 1 and went to the door

Speaker 1 to step into my shoes and take a thin jacket from the hook.

Speaker 1 Outside,

Speaker 1 I paused to zip up my jacket and feel the air on my skin.

Speaker 1 It was one of those spring days when the sky was full of puffy clouds.

Speaker 1 So minute to minute

Speaker 1 you might be dazzled by sunlight or shrouded in shade

Speaker 1 And with each shift you'd likely be pushing back the sleeves of your jacket

Speaker 1 or tugging them back down.

Speaker 1 Still,

Speaker 1 just now,

Speaker 1 the sun shone on my face,

Speaker 1 and the air smelled of fresh grass

Speaker 1 and last night's rain.

Speaker 1 I was just about to start off

Speaker 1 when I looked down and spotted a penny on the sidewalk.

Speaker 1 I smiled.

Speaker 1 We were off to a good start

Speaker 1 already.

Speaker 1 I squatted down to pick it up

Speaker 1 and turned it over in my palm.

Speaker 1 The ruddy copper color was tarnished

Speaker 1 and dark,

Speaker 1 and was my first color spotting.

Speaker 1 As I stood,

Speaker 1 I saw that it was minted the year I was born.

Speaker 1 I tucked it into my pocket beside the crayon

Speaker 1 and began to walk.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 with lots of practices like this,

Speaker 1 designed to help us be a bit more present,

Speaker 1 there's a chance to take it so far that you drive yourself crazy,

Speaker 1 that you try too hard,

Speaker 1 and somehow feel you failed, even though you actually can't.

Speaker 1 I reminded myself that my job wasn't to find absolutely everything

Speaker 1 that was dark brown or a deep clay red.

Speaker 1 I didn't really have a job at all.

Speaker 1 I was just walking

Speaker 1 and letting things be gently highlighted by my attention.

Speaker 1 I noticed last year's leaves caught around the post of a fence.

Speaker 1 The old maples

Speaker 1 faded to paler versions of themselves.

Speaker 1 A child on a bike whizzed past me, and I saw their sweater was the same mahogany as my crayon.

Speaker 1 A neighbor was spreading mulch in their garden beds,

Speaker 1 and each handful was a rich, reddish brown.

Speaker 1 In a backyard,

Speaker 1 an old potting shed was shingled and sun-baked, stained wood slats,

Speaker 1 and on porch steps, terracotta pots

Speaker 1 held blooming daffodils and johnny jump-ups.

Speaker 1 The rust on an old mailbox caught my eye,

Speaker 1 and the ruddy chest of a robin flying past

Speaker 1 as i turned down main street and made my way into downtown

Speaker 1 i spotted two people

Speaker 1 chatting outside the bakery

Speaker 1 each with a dog on a leash

Speaker 1 one was a puppy much less than a year old her fur

Speaker 1 a deep russet red

Speaker 1 and the other dog was full grown,

Speaker 1 but half her size

Speaker 1 His fur many shades of brown

Speaker 1 sticking out all over

Speaker 1 like he'd been hit with a dose of static electricity.

Speaker 1 As they chased around each other,

Speaker 1 play bowing and jumping,

Speaker 1 their fur blended together

Speaker 1 and made

Speaker 1 exactly the shade of red-brown I was looking for today.

Speaker 1 In the window of the bookshop,

Speaker 1 I took a moment to look at each cover on display.

Speaker 1 One featured the face of a man with deep brown eyes,

Speaker 1 another

Speaker 1 a mysterious-looking brick house shrouded in fog.

Speaker 1 There was an aged bronze plaque in the alley, marking the oldest building in town

Speaker 1 A ring in the window of the jewelry shop,

Speaker 1 with a big, tawny brown stone set in it

Speaker 1 A flyer for piano lessons,

Speaker 1 with a drawing of an upright

Speaker 1 made of shiny chestnut chestnut wood.

Speaker 1 On my way back home,

Speaker 1 as the clouds shifted and the sun warmed my back,

Speaker 1 I felt the crayon and the coin in my pocket,

Speaker 1 textures and colors,

Speaker 1 sun and shadows,

Speaker 1 steps and slow breaths.

Speaker 1 I was grateful for this soft start

Speaker 1 to my day.

Speaker 1 Color walk

Speaker 1 From the kitchen table

Speaker 1 I could see the tree tops moving in the breeze.

Speaker 1 It didn't look too strong,

Speaker 1 not even a wind,

Speaker 1 just a zephyr

Speaker 1 that stirred the new buds as they grew.

Speaker 1 My mug was nearly empty,

Speaker 1 but it still felt warm and comforting in my hands.

Speaker 1 I savored the last sips.

Speaker 1 My gaze fell onto my plate,

Speaker 1 empty,

Speaker 1 but for a few crumbs

Speaker 1 and a smear of raspberry jam from the English muffin I'd just enjoyed.

Speaker 1 I traced my finger along the plate's edge.

Speaker 1 It was plain white porcelain,

Speaker 1 but rimmed in a deep blue

Speaker 1 And it reminded me of the thin stemmed grape hyacinths

Speaker 1 that were popping up

Speaker 1 in the flower bed

Speaker 1 beside my front door.

Speaker 1 I smiled into the dregs of my tea

Speaker 1 as

Speaker 1 an idea occurred to me

Speaker 1 a way to spend the rest of the morning

Speaker 1 sparked by the blue

Speaker 1 of the plate

Speaker 1 and the matching flowers

Speaker 1 I hadn't gone on one

Speaker 1 in an age

Speaker 1 but spring was the perfect time

Speaker 1 to revisit a favorite pastime.

Speaker 1 Yes, today

Speaker 1 was made

Speaker 1 for a color walk.

Speaker 1 The idea was simple.

Speaker 1 Choose a color

Speaker 1 and then

Speaker 1 go for a walk,

Speaker 1 noticing all the places that color showed up.

Speaker 1 Each instance would become like a mooring post

Speaker 1 for a wandering mind.

Speaker 1 A color walk could be a solemn, moving meditation,

Speaker 1 or

Speaker 1 a jolly game of I spy

Speaker 1 moment to moment

Speaker 1 it could be both

Speaker 1 And in the spring

Speaker 1 as the world leapt into color

Speaker 1 Opportunities to notice

Speaker 1 to pay calm attention would abound

Speaker 1 I set my plate and cup in the sink

Speaker 1 and went to a drawer in my desk

Speaker 1 with an idea.

Speaker 1 I wanted a way to pick a color for today

Speaker 1 without getting caught

Speaker 1 in an internal debate

Speaker 1 about which would be best.

Speaker 1 Sometimes,

Speaker 1 even when a decision didn't really matter,

Speaker 1 I could slip into a loop of comparing and rethinking.

Speaker 1 This walk was meant to be a way to rest that part of myself.

Speaker 1 So I needed to do something

Speaker 1 like flip a coin

Speaker 1 or roll a color die.

Speaker 1 From my drawer

Speaker 1 I took out a familiar yellow and green box

Speaker 1 the big one with the sharpener on the back

Speaker 1 that I'd treated myself to

Speaker 1 on my last trip to the stationery store.

Speaker 1 I closed my eyes

Speaker 1 and flipped the top open,

Speaker 1 letting my fingers trail over the waxy tips of the crayons.

Speaker 1 They'd come organized, of course,

Speaker 1 but I was in the habit of pulling them out by the handful as I used them

Speaker 1 and sticking them back in

Speaker 1 willy-nilly.

Speaker 1 So I truly had no idea,

Speaker 1 even what family of color I might pull.

Speaker 1 My finger stopped on one,

Speaker 1 and I slid it from the pack.

Speaker 1 I paused to feel

Speaker 1 where the wax met the paper,

Speaker 1 how it was peeled back a bit

Speaker 1 from when I'd sharpened it last.

Speaker 1 I wondered if it would be a yellow,

Speaker 1 which I would spot in every daffodil, a yield sign,

Speaker 1 or a shade of blue,

Speaker 1 like the sky today.

Speaker 1 But when I finally blinked my eyes open,

Speaker 1 I saw

Speaker 1 I'd drawn good old burnt sienna.

Speaker 1 Huh,

Speaker 1 I said aloud.

Speaker 1 Didn't see that coming.

Speaker 1 This was a color that had helped me draw many tree trunks

Speaker 1 and brick house fronts since my first pack of crayons,

Speaker 1 big enough to include it in grade school.

Speaker 1 It was a utilitarian stronghold of a color.

Speaker 1 Not one I'd have picked myself

Speaker 1 for a whimsical stroll in the spring,

Speaker 1 and that made it perfect for today.

Speaker 1 I tucked the crayon

Speaker 1 into my pocket,

Speaker 1 for some reason wanting to bring it along,

Speaker 1 and went to the door to step into my shoes

Speaker 1 and take a thin jacket from the hook.

Speaker 1 Outside,

Speaker 1 I paused to zip up my jacket

Speaker 1 and feel the air on my skin.

Speaker 1 It was one of those spring days

Speaker 1 when the sky is full of puffy clouds,

Speaker 1 so minute to minute

Speaker 1 you might be dazzled by sunlight

Speaker 1 or shrouded in shade,

Speaker 1 and with each shift,

Speaker 1 you'd likely be pushing back the sleeves of your jacket

Speaker 1 or tugging them back down.

Speaker 1 Still,

Speaker 1 just now,

Speaker 1 the sun shone on my face,

Speaker 1 and the air smelled of fresh grass

Speaker 1 and last night's rain.

Speaker 1 I was just about to start off

Speaker 1 when I looked down

Speaker 1 and spotted a penny on the sidewalk.

Speaker 1 I smiled.

Speaker 1 We were off to a good start already.

Speaker 1 I squatted down to pick it up

Speaker 1 and turned it over in my palm.

Speaker 1 The ruddy copper color

Speaker 1 was tarnished and dark,

Speaker 1 and it was my first color spotting.

Speaker 1 As I stood,

Speaker 1 I saw that it was minted

Speaker 1 in the year I was born.

Speaker 1 I tucked it into my pocket beside the crayon

Speaker 1 and began to walk.

Speaker 1 Now, with lots of practices like this

Speaker 1 designed to help us be a bit more present.

Speaker 1 There's a chance to take it

Speaker 1 so far that you drive yourself crazy,

Speaker 1 that you try too hard

Speaker 1 and somehow feel you've failed,

Speaker 1 even though

Speaker 1 you actually can't.

Speaker 1 I reminded myself

Speaker 1 that my job wasn't to find

Speaker 1 absolutely everything

Speaker 1 that was dark brown or deep clay red.

Speaker 1 I didn't really have a job at all.

Speaker 1 I was just walking

Speaker 1 and letting things be gently highlighted by my attention.

Speaker 1 I noticed last year's leaves

Speaker 1 caught around the post of a fence.

Speaker 1 The old maples

Speaker 1 faded to paler versions of themselves.

Speaker 1 A child on a bike

Speaker 1 whizzed past me,

Speaker 1 and I saw their sweater

Speaker 1 was the same mahogany as my crayon.

Speaker 1 A neighbor was spreading mulch in their garden beds,

Speaker 1 and each handful

Speaker 1 was a rich

Speaker 1 reddish brown.

Speaker 1 In a backyard,

Speaker 1 an old potting shed

Speaker 1 was shingled in sun-baked, stained wood slats,

Speaker 1 and on porch steps, terracotta pots

Speaker 1 held blooming daffodils and johnny jump-ups.

Speaker 1 The rust

Speaker 1 on an old mailbox caught my eye,

Speaker 1 and the ruddy chest of a robin flying past

Speaker 1 As I turned down Main Street

Speaker 1 and made my way into downtown,

Speaker 1 I spotted two people chatting outside the bakery,

Speaker 1 each with a dog on a leash.

Speaker 1 One was a puppy,

Speaker 1 much less than a year old,

Speaker 1 her fur

Speaker 1 deep russet red,

Speaker 1 and the other dog was full grown,

Speaker 1 but half her size,

Speaker 1 his fur many shades of brown

Speaker 1 and sticking out all over

Speaker 1 like he'd been hit with a dose of static electricity

Speaker 1 as they chased around each other,

Speaker 1 playbowing and jumping,

Speaker 1 their fur blended together

Speaker 1 and made

Speaker 1 exactly the shade of red brown

Speaker 1 I was looking for to day.

Speaker 1 In the window of the bookshop

Speaker 1 I took a moment to look at each cover on display.

Speaker 1 One featured the face of a man with deep brown eyes

Speaker 1 another

Speaker 1 a mysterious looking brick house shrouded in fog.

Speaker 1 There was an aged bronze plaque in the alley marking the oldest building in town,

Speaker 1 a ring in the window of the jewelry shop

Speaker 1 with a big tawny brown stone set in it,

Speaker 1 a flyer for piano lessons,

Speaker 1 with a drawing of an upright

Speaker 1 made of shiny chestnut wood.

Speaker 1 On my way back home,

Speaker 1 as the clouds shifted

Speaker 1 and the sun warmed my back,

Speaker 1 I felt the crayon

Speaker 1 and the coin in my pocket,

Speaker 1 textures and color,

Speaker 1 sun

Speaker 1 and shadows,

Speaker 1 steps

Speaker 1 and slow breaths.

Speaker 1 I was grateful

Speaker 1 for this soft start

Speaker 1 to my day.

Speaker 1 Sweet dreams.