My Blonde L
ife Tamara Dyrud Schierkolk is a 1988 graduate of Middle River High School. This small-town girl is now a city-dweller living in the Twin Cities. She writes for several publications, hoping to inspire others to love their neighbors well because life is just better that way.
www.tamarajorell.com
Yesterday, my supervisor delivered the icebreaker question to start our weekly team meeting. “If your personality had a color, what color would it be?”
“Light blue,” I said, not missing a beat.
My coworkers shifted into contemplation mode, frowning or drinking from water bottles or bunching their lips to one side, their eyebrows coming together. Seconds lapsed. Why the deliberation? They acted like they had never thought of this–like they didn’t see letters and numbers and sounds in color.
“A person I serve has synesthesia,” one of the women said. “He says the sound of my voice is lavender.”
I wanted to say, Well, yeah, but didn’t. Not that her voice sounded lavender to me, but the concept was my reality, and it wasn’t hers? I jotted the new-to-me word on paper: synesthesia.
My mind spirited me back to a day in college where I must’ve admitted my outlook to a classmate.
“So, what color is the letter a?” she asked.
“Yellow,” I said.
“Hmm.” A wrinkled nose accompanied her smile.
And a green traffic light sounds like an e-flat played on a flute, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
Since my very beginning, I’ve enjoyed my secret life where colors marry letters and numbers. And I’ve enjoyed it as normal. After college, no one asked again, and I didn’t think about the sensory crossover anymore.
Until yesterday.
“So, do you see numbers and letters in color?”I asked Husband. “No.”And he surveyed me like he wasn’t entirely sure I was okay. I bandied the question over to two of our girls. No, neither one had the pleasure, but at least Thora understood my meandering reasons for why I saw her name in navy blue.
I dug into the condition--or gifting, as many creatives consider it--and learned 4% of the population has what I have--or variations of it--others who can taste shapes or smell sounds, hear discomfort or see music. It’s not a disease, disorder, or disability, sources say, but an automatic and involuntary blending of senses. The brain is a spectacular place but unusual. Try telling your doctor the pain in your side sounds like a swelling pump organ. (And no, I’m not trying to be poetic.)
I’m fully awake now and know I walk through the world with a few others who also see the letter k as orange. Or maybe it’s another color for you.
What do you see?
