Wednesday, June 15, 2016



She stands in the doorway, between two worlds.  Behind her, the clamoring sounds of her life - voices, traffic, phones - all the sounds jumbling together and shouting for her attention.  In front of her, a wide open space, far as the eye can see.  Nothingness, air, a blank canvas - no sounds but the wind.

She tries to move forward, but she can't lift her foot.  It's as if there is a great pool of mud at her feet, holding them fast to the ground.  The more she tries, the harder it is - great sucking sounds of muck, as it pulls her foot back fast.  Struggling only makes it worse, and the mud turns to cement, little by little.

Her first thought is to turn back - back to the loud life, where she knows someone might pull her to safety.  That would mean shutting the door to the air and the wind.  Allowing the cacophony to swallow her whole, rather than the cement.  But at least she'd be alive.

She looks back out at the empty, quiet space.  Her mind embraces the noiseless expanse, while the cement-like substance rises to her knees.  Should she continue to struggle?  It seems futile and such a waste of time but the draw of the still and silence is strong.  Her heart yearns for the peace, the serenity of it all.  The noise has enveloped her for so long, she no longer has a voice to compete with it.

She stays there so long, that the cement has now risen to her waist. Her mind is whirling now - she has to make a choice, but how? Which?  She no longer has the ability to move, except for her arms.  She can't grasp the door frame any more, to guide her movement.  She's slowly allowing her body to freeze in place, due to indecision and doubt.  

It's time to decide.  The cement has made it's way to her chest, and is starting to restrict her breathing.  It's harder to take those deep peaceful breaths now.  The noise from behind is still amazingly strong.  The wind still blows sweetly from the front.  She can't see the open space any more, as the fog rolls in.  The fog of doubt and worry.  The time has come - to either push herself forward, into the space of air, wind, and uncertainty, or to fall backwards into the loud, busy, cluttered life she's always known.  Choose safety & accept what is, or choose the unknown & create a new life of serenity and peace.

She closes her eyes. The choice is completely hers, but she knows too well that it doesn't only affect her.  The crowd behind her will pay the price if she goes, but she will pay one just as dear if she stays.  How to choose, what to the cement grows deeper, and more solid.

One more moment.  There is also the choice to not choose.  To let the cement surround her, and pull her down.  That seems like the most painful of choices though.  To be stuck there between the two worlds, choosing neither, and letting them both slip through her fingers.  Never knowing if one, or the other, was her key to happiness.  Never being brave enough to make that choice.  That is the coward's way out, she tells herself.  That will NOT be the way this ends.  Whichever way she goes, she will be the one to decide.