The Blue or The Purple?

I ask myself variations of this questions everyday.
Stripes or spots? Plaits or a ponytail? Art History Paper or “Mad Men”? Dress or Pants? Fluevogs or Doc? (lets be honest it will be always be Fluevogs)

Every minute you are faced with a decision of some sort whether it is getting out of bed in the morning, or quitting school and your job to pursue a wild adventure. Big, small, diagonal and sideways each decision as significant as the one preceding it, causing a constant progression from choice to choice to choice, until suddenly you are married, have 2 kids, a dog, a 3 storey house and vacation pad in the Hampton’s.

I am facing a big choice in my life right now, one that is appearing hard to articulate and reveal, however, the metaphor of the Blue and Purple Hats is calling to me.

The Blue Hat. It is the hat you wear all the time. It goes with the spots on your bag, the stripes on your socks, your favourite yellow dress, and fits your head like a glove. A very special person gave you this hat, and it hangs on your bed knob, where you can see it all the time. Wearing this hat is very natural, something that just sits in the mix, a part of you. When you wear it, you instantly feel like a cool cucumber, because you are. You know whats important to you, and feel inspired just by looking at yourself in the mirror. The hat is yours, represents you and all the things that make you a cool cucumber.

The Purple Hat. This is a hat in the shop window, perched on the head of a mannequin dressed in a Elie Saab periwinkle gown and a pair of Jimmy Choo’s. This is the hat of possibility. It is a very specific shade of purple that might not look good with your favourite yellow dress. It is the kind of hat that you might have to buy a new bag for, but is that such a bad thing? This is the hat that few would dare to wear. Will it fit? Who knows. It is the risk that’s the exciting part. Maybe you won’t be a cool cucumber any more, maybe you will be a aggressive apple. Or an ominous orange. It could change you, it could not. Its just a hat after all. Or it is something more?

I feel paralyzed by choice. Choosing one may make me happy, keep me comfortable but where is the excitement in that? Choosing the other is daring, sexy, attractive, but what if it all falls through and I have nothing but a stupid old hat?

As we grow with the people we love, we realize that there a points, where we either turn around or keep on. I want to keep on, I know that for sure, but sporting what hat? It might make all the difference.