Wandering the streets of any town or city in Italy, you'll find yourself surrounded by lots of history, but I am drawn to magnificent doors and entrances like a crow is to shiny objects. They fill me with curious wonder and all that represents, including the history of their intention over time. Imagining centuries of humanity that have walked through these doors and how times have changed us, but not these doors.
All my life I've been crazy about doors and what they might unveil, like sensing the hint of an invitation. It can be physical doors, or doors into other cultures, or landscapes or doors to the hearts and aspirations of others, or even doors to creative ideas. A door is the transition and passageway from one place into another. One might provide protection when closed or be a warm welcome when open.
I am very grateful and proud to have grown up with parents that had an open door policy. Whether you belonged there or were simply in need, anyone could rest assured they were welcomed at our home. Maybe it was the size of our family, that Daniela calls a village, was too big to have it governed any other way. lol
A door is also a gentle reminder that we have the gift of choice in our life. The choice of what doors to open and the ones we know have no place in or desire. Which will we enter or exit and what do we bring with us? What aspirations or hesitations? What practices of courage, kindness or vulnerability? What expectations or elements of fear?
The next time you open a special door, one that ignites you in some way, try to take deep breath and a moment of stillness and sense what's present. I find it’s always pregnant with a little mystery.
T'is my birthday and there are so many to explore. I'm taking you with me to doors beneath the gentle softness of arches.