Thresholds: to enter, or not
There is a poem that crossed my path about a decade ago. This poem has a way of circling back around, and it is usually right on time. This poems evokes the essence of the threshold. It is about the choice to enter a doorway, or the choice not to.
There are certain thresholds that feel exhilarating, and there are certain thresholds that get the knees shaking. Personally, I find myself most stirred when at thresholds where there are strings being plucked within me that reverberate awareness upon patterns that are no longer helpful, but have kept me feeling safe for many years.
My sense is that if you are reading this, like me, you are somewhere along your own unique journey of learning, healing, and growing. And you likely know by now that these paths invite, and sometimes demand, a certain willingness to keep your eyes and heart open, even when you come to know something about yourself that quakes your inner architecture.
Once there is awareness, even the tiniest most slippery bread crumb, the doorway reveals itself. And once it does, we can choose to play hide and seek with ourselves, and slither and slide so as to dodge the eyes of awareness.
We can enter the doorway, or not.
We can come into intimacy with the shapes we walk with (even the creepy crawlies, fanged, and clawed), or not. We can welcome home the loyal soldier from a lifetime of standing guard, or not. We can learn of the tender one the solider fiercely protected, or not. We can choose to love ourselves all the way through, or not.
We can enter the doorway, or not.
Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.
If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.
Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.
If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily
to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely
but much will blind you,
much will evade you,
at what cost who knows?
The door itself makes no promises.
It is only a door.
…The door itself makes no promises. It is only a door. But if you go through, there is always the risk of remembering your name.
Blessings to the doorways you find yourself upon. May you walk though them in right time, and may you receive the courage and support to do so in love.
{ Poem | Prospective Immigrants Please Note by Adrienne Rich }
