Doors

I’ve been thinking about doors lately: the ones that remain open, the ones that are closed, and the ones we have our fingers bent around the edges while leaning back with all our might.

Doors are portals to life.

And figuring out which ones are open, closed, or closing is important.

I just had an experience with one that I should never had tried opening again.  Looking back, I thought going through that door and reengaging with a group I had left nearly a decade ago would bring more joy.  Instead I couldn’t help but compare how things were to how “they used to be”.  While I thought I could be of service, I felt overwhelmed by numerous demands of my time.  Worse, I didn’t feel the connection to the people I used to.  There was some with the people I had worked with in the past.  But after less than a year, I realized I had changed.  And so had the group.  The experience was an exercise in business, as well as reliving the past.

So I walked out the door again.  And I got hurt.  Then bitterness washed over me like ocean waves, sucking me into the sands of morose.  It was clear.  If I wasn’t part of the group.  Then I didn’t belong in the same space.

I walked out that beautiful spring day feeling offended.

Now I stand looking at the circle of doors around me.  Some are open.  Some ajar.  Some shut and sealed.  And I question which is which and where to go from here.

Middle age is like this.

I am aware of time.  Time that has passed.  The time I might have left.  And regret overhangs like a sepulchral dome over my doors.

Thanks for being patient as I figure out which doors are still open or ajar.

Namaste,

J. Monell