When I first considered the first learning event of #WalkMyWorld 2015 (http://bit.ly/walk2015LE1), I considered the physical doors of my world. I thought about my front door, both the view from it and my canine companion who insists I don’t actually step though it. But my front door isn’t really about me or my world. It’s a lovely double door with leaded glass that brings in prisms and light, but in my world, it serves more of a decorative than an practical purpose.
As much as I like my front door, it is not the real open door to my world. My real world is much less formal than a “front door life” and those who walk with me learn quickly that my reality is often messy with things out of place, and generally things that don’t work as they should.
This gate is the door I use daily when I leave my home whether I’m heading out on foot or by car. Most days I don’t really “see” the gate as I’m focused on whatever takes me through it. The back yard is far from an inviting garden, especially in the winter, although the dogs and the birds seem to enjoy it. The distance through from the gate is simply a transition from my world to something other.
The gate is a little crooked, and the latch sticks to that it takes an effort to ensure it stays closed so the greyhounds don’t escape. The jasmine tries to take over every summer, but the sweet fragrance makes the inconvenience of pushing it aside worthwhile. Going out the gate represents a new adventure or the promise of something about to happen. Sometimes it’s a trip to the gym or the grocery store, but other times is it the gate to something greater.
Coming home, the gate has another meaning. Usually coming in through the gate is the final step at the end of the day or the workout or the errands. Very often coming through the gate includes juggling bags and boxes and books, so that the sticky latch is more of a nuisance. The emotions associated with this side of the gate are some blend of fatigue and relief at being home.
I can see the gate from my computer station in the kitchen. I see when family arrives home or good friends come for tea. (Good friends never use the front door!) The latch is loud, so it alerts me to people coming in so that I can disengage from whatever work I’m doing and put on the kettle (usually.) This is the gate that welcomes people into my world.