Wherever I roam, I find that I come home with photos of doors. The older and more weathered, the better. The attraction must have something to do with my willingness to walk into something new, risky. It takes trust, and I'm big on that right now.
This may be one reason why I love Lisa Field-Elliot's website...it reads and feels like an invitation to trust the process of this adventure-filled life.
When I went to a poetry evening with Maya Stein last year, she spoke frequently of, "the way in." As creators, we are searching for a way in. Access. Travel from the outside to the inner rooms, realms, secret closets, attics and pantries. Where the fertile soil lies hidden.
Not knowing what is on the other side, we've all found ourselves standing outside the proverbial doorway (to more information, if not the answer) wondering whether we want to know what lies beyond the click of the knob.
What I'm imagining, more now than before, is not to gain understanding or to comprehend my experiences, which are of the past as soon as they've happened. I've hopefully given up that fruitless pursuit. But to find a way to thrive amidst whatever lies behind the threshold I choose to walk through. I seek acceptance that can be discovered, received, without an intellectual bludgeoning needing to take place. To *move with fluidity* beckons through these days of young babes, new work, different levels of energy, than I had ten years ago. It feels particularly feminine to trust this and to let go the analytics.
I carry with me to my bed-nest tonight hope not to repeat the mistakes that initiated me into this complicated adulthood-and when I do, to softly thread myself back into the weft of thriving life without seamripping myself in the process.
Each road I travel, there is a doorway at every turn.
That's a bounty of metaphor for one post.
