The Entryway

The Entryway





I look at the door that looms before me. Well, it looms as much as something that’s only an inch taller than me can loom, but that doesn’t make it seem any less intimidating. I can’t help but wonder how I got to this place. I mean, I know that I walked to the door and that before I came to the door I was in a place that was definitely not in front of the door, but that seems trivial at this point. It doesn’t matter where I was or who I was before this point. The only thing that matters is what I do or fail to do now. It feels like I’m stuck in some horrible metaphor for life, something about life being an endless hallway with a multitude of doors where each door is a decision and behind that door are even more doors. But that’s not where I am at all; at least I don’t think I am. The hallway most certainly isn’t endless, as I can see the ends of it when I look to my left and right, and there aren’t a multitude of doors. There’s only one door, and that’s the one that’s in front of me. I’m sure that it must seem odd that I’m at such an impasse. The act of going through a door isn’t exactly the hardest thing in the world, unless you don’t have hands, but then I believe you probably have bigger problems to be worrying about. You simply turn go up to the door, turn the handle, step inside, and then, what? I don’t know what’s behind this door. I have a fairly good idea what’s behind this door, but I’m not sure, and the uncertainty is starting to kill me. What if I open the door and it’s not what I expect at all? If we look at this from a somewhat twisted Schrödinger perspective, there could be anything behind this door. When I open the door, I’m just as likely to find a black void that sucks all that gaze into it to a dimension of despair or a kitten. Or I could find an empty room, as logic might state. I try to not just have one outlook on life, so I can’t take any of these theories too seriously, but having no clear idea of what is behind this door causes a pain and fear in me that I’ve never experienced before. On the other hand, I need to go through this door if I’m going to move on. It makes me think of a story I once read, where a man had been summoned by the law to appear before court. When he arrived at the gate, the guard says he may not pass until someone comes to collect him, so the man waits. Years pass, and no one comes to collect the man. Being human, the man grows old and begins to die. The guard is not heartless, and asks the now old man if he has any final requests. The old man says “Could you open the gate so I may at least see what is on the other side?” The guard hesitates for a moment, then gets up and opens the gate. The old man looks through the gate, hoping to see something worth seeing, but instead he sees another gate with another guard. He then dies on the spot. Not the most inspiring story, I know, but at least it’s relevant and somewhat similar to my own. I, however, have no guard guarding the door, and there is no rule saying that I cannot open the door. I don’t want to be like the old man and live my life in indecision, wondering what might be beyond this door. I finally work up the courage to go up and put my hand on the handle. I pause for a moment, and then turn my hand. The door is silent as it opens, and a bright light washes over me.



End