Placing them beside each other, these opposite on the color wheel, it creates a strong and satisfying visual impact. This technique is often in art, fashion, and design. It even goes beyond that. This mixing of hard and soft, bold and quiet, strong and tender. When used in music, they call it harmony. When on the farm in Minnesota, we called it Grandma and Grandpa. 

I didn’t have the words for it then, but this blending of differences. This long and lean mixed with short and cuddly. This thoughtful quiet mixed with continuous giggle. This practical and practically anything. This melding was the strength that I leaned on, learned from and live with still. 

I was reminded of it yesterday listening to a podcast with the queen of elegant roasted chicken, Ina Garten. She, always in a Talbot’s blouse and an Hermes scarf. How could I not be drawn to this harmony? It is the cradling I grew up on. It’s why, I suppose, I wheel the opposites of red and green. Why I wear the expensive boots with my $5 beloved thrifted jeans. 

I can’t figure out what we’re so afraid of — in our differences. When they may be the only things that bring us together, that give us the harmony that we all crave. Whether you’re red or green, Talbot’s or Hermes, you need me, and I need you. We were meant to ensemble. How satisfying it is to be together.