How many doors are there to all knowledge? Is one forced to locate ‘A’ door? Pigeon holed into one line of entry? Or are there many doors, everywhere, all along life’s path?
Wherever we find ourselves on the journey, we will find, upon deep reflection, we are actually in the eye of the storm, standing smack dab in the middle of where all doors … and openings … meet.
Do you dare enter one of the doors? Or do you open them all and stand center, sending love and song and sweetness into each of them? Not really joining with, or meshing with any single room, or path, or group.
Photo by Aziz Acharki
She spins right, wearing her white dress. Sparkles begin to fly off of her as she spins, entering the dark opening of each door. It’s as though a clear tube is surrounding all of them, and sliding down the walls of the aperture are golden streams, like water dripping down the outer edges. Darkness is behind, on the outside of this ‘tube’ yet these golden rivulets are reflecting light.
She stands in a circle of light and all of the doors seem to disappear, all except one large opening. It seems to open into darkness, but as she looks at it, it begins to glow slightly blue, ever so subtle in the dim, near impenetrable view.
The image changes to a sunset. The sky a pale blue as light fades. Silhouettes begin to appear. Buildings, hills, and anything that is abound the earth.
Hair like liquid gold, parted on the right. Gentle waves and a thin band across the forehead. Features delicate, beautiful … yet eyes are like icy laser beams. Your energy pushes against my middle and a sensation like … fear? … butterflies?
I wonder, your features say you are young, your stature small … yet there is no such thing as small is there? That is a word humans dreamed up after they stuffed themselves into a flesh suit. Reality … who are you really? Why are you pretending to be small when in fact you are so very large? Are you here to burn away my illusion? What if I’m not ready? What if I’m comfortable in the uncomfortableness?
Strange. I thought myself courageous, brave, and willing to face what is … yet this moment allows me to understand there is still fear embedded in the mind. It holds me back from walking through doors, from committing to anything … it keeps me remaining aloof.
One thing I’ve learned is that while patient, there is only so much of it (patience) that can be offered an individual. At some point, the comfortable will be pushed into discomfort, forced to stretch beyond that which they know. We’re compelled to face our fear, willingly … or kicking and screaming.
Photo by KT
I think again about what nice means. I think to myself, it wasn’t very nice of me to yell at someone the other day. Fortunately for me, he forgives easily, quickly, and just lets it go like it never happened. Then on the other hand I know someone who refuses to even try to come to an understanding … about what? I do not know. I realize I’m swimming between two poles of experience with two different people. One who forgives and moves on, the other who refuses and fosters negativity, holding onto a grudge without explanation as to what it might be about. Two completely different reality’s, and me standing in the middle. Emotions pulled from one extreme to the other.
All of a sudden I consider many other things as well, and decide I’m just going to sleep. It isn’t easy knowing how small I am, living in this body, feeling how large I am should it be released. Not too thrilled about meeting the fierce, golden haired, girl like figure, for she looks and feels like she’ll cut someone clear to the soul, whether they be large or not.