Greens that heal

I always had an aversion to greens. Many of my earliest palettes excluded the color altogether. At the time, I could not find the words, or perhaps I had not yet processed the reason why.

In those early years, I mixed my own greens instead, blending yellows and blues, with sienna and turquoise as my favorite combinations. The resulting range of sap and olive tones, leaning into siennas and umbers, always felt right.

By mixing them myself, I never had to face the greens that somehow felt off.

a selection of greens including Amazonite Genuine, Cascade Green, Undersea Green, and custom color mixes.

Then one day it occurred to me that certain shades of green reminded me of a place and time that were deeply hurtful. Can color be a trigger? Does one person feel the warmth of golden sun when they see yellow hues, while another feels grief?

As I explored this in thought and prayer, I realized it was not just one memory surfacing. There was more to unpack.

I thought of the pale teal hospital curtains as I watched my grandfather lean over to kiss my grandmother in her final days. I remembered a traumatic event that unfolded on green flooring. Had these experiences cut so deeply that they distorted the way I saw color?

It was there that I allowed access. I prayed and quietly worked through those moments, choosing to see them through heavenly eyes instead of my own. The kiss between my grandparents no longer ushered in only the grief of losing them, but also the gift of having witnessed their love. That green carpet no longer represented defeat, but resilience and survival.

palm trees in cool green tones with hints of violet

What happened next was something I never could have expected. Not only did I confront hurts I had stubbornly avoided, but I surrendered them to God. In that surrender, healing began.

Soon there was an explosion of green inspiration. I began to notice the subtlest hint of green in a shadow or in a reflection of light. I saw tones I would have missed before. The only way I can describe it is this: it felt like being color blind for years, seeing only one or two shades of green, and then suddenly perceiving the full spectrum.

warm green hues in a painting

Today, my palette includes greens, nuanced and vibrant, sometimes even resembling the very shades I once avoided. I have come to understand that color can be triggering, but it can also be healing. For some, healing may come suddenly. For others, certain hues remain tender places, stirring memories that still surface.

In those moments, I have learned to handle those colors with care, inviting God to reveal the beautiful ways they can be experienced in a different light.

Can color be therapeutic? For me, the answer is yes. Perhaps we all carry colors that mean more than we realize.

a balancing act of warm and cool greens