They say we dream in black and white. We also try to live our lives in black and white. For me, age has sharpened those colors. Blacks have become blacker. Whites have become whiter. Gray has grown.

Over the years I have watched as Black has sharpened its intensity and deepened its hue. Those shades of black that were perhaps in the background years ago, have come boldly into the full light of day. Black shimmers and entices more than ever before. Black beckons and invites like a black hole waiting to suck all other colors into its immense gravity until it consumes them. Because of its bold push from the shadows, Black, along with its nefarious nature, is easier to recognize. Black has become blacker.

As Black has become bolder, White has become more radiant and pure. In spite of Black’s attempts to tarnish White, it has remained untainted and continues to cast a brilliant light wherever it is invited in. White reflects the good in all the other colors around it. White has become more inviting, and I am more certain of its goodness than ever before. White’s intensity has taken on a depth that mirrors eternity. White has become whiter.

As a younger man, it was simpler to deal in Black and White. I avoided Gray. Maybe Gray made me uncomfortable because of my lack of experience. I wasn’t confident enough in my understanding of Black and White for me to pass through Gray without losing my way. Gray scared me.

As my understanding of Black and White increased, I found that Gray was not so bad. Gray allows for more personal expression. Gray is perfect for discovering how you really feel about something. Gray can allow you to interact better with others. In fact I see that much of life is lived not in the stark colors of Black and White, but in the Gray, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable there without a deeper understanding of Black and White.

I am more certain today that White is white, and that Black is black. Because of that knowledge, I am no longer afraid of Gray.

Someday, I might even understand orange.