Standing in the Doorway, written January 3, 2000
The door stands open, and as I peek through it, I marvel that such a life does indeed exist.
I will not cross the threshold, because if I do, all I care about and those I love will be lost to me forever.
With my hand on the door frame, I feel no shame in enjoying and partaking from a distance. As long as I’m not observed, I’m safe to enter with my mind.
The group sits comfortably in a circle and doesn’t see me because the members are entranced by each other and their conversation. They aren’t talking about the weather. They aren’t politely nodding as someone talks about his or her aches and pains or gifted children.
No, they’re delving into the unknown, exploring each others’ minds for new and fresh ideas. They’re going beyond the superficial into what makes each of them special, human–a miracle.
Their minds don’t seem connected to their bodies. Time stands still. They are not aware of their surroundings. They are in the paradise of discovering mind.
They love one another, but not in a physical way. They connect without touching. They are friends of another realm. They like each other and don’t even care who drives home in the Porsche.
Oh, how I wish to step into that room and join them instead of standing in the doorway, but I turn away on time, to do what is required of me in this life I lead and this path I’m on.
I wrote this journal entry January 3, 2000, ten years and seven months before I started to blog.
The connections I’ve made blogging, come close to how I describe the relationship melded between the members of this hypothetical group beyond the open door.
I think I may have found the perfect compromise.
That is beautiful…
Thanks Lee. It's a personal sharing, which is what Mondays on this blog are all about.