The Open Door

The Open Door By susan Q miller © 2019 In the winter of my mind there is darkness… cold, harsh judgment and distraction. I wander through the dank corridor with an occasional flickering candle to guide me. Where am I? Who am I? So many years. No answers. I press on. Yesterday, over a cup of coffee, my friend said, “People don’t generally change.” My heart sank. My feet engaged in kicking it as I walked home. Today, in the parking lot, that place where we leave our vehicles and head out on foot in search of something, a dearer friend reminded me that I am a “Full House.” If I’m feeling cramped in one room, it may be time to move to another. I picked up my heart and carried it out of the narrow corridor simply by opening the door. There, as light flooded the space around me, I rediscovered that magical, mystical chamber. You know, The one that melts the edge of winter into a radiant pool of possibilities. Here there is no frost or ice to inhibit me, no narrowing walls to hold me back. Here I feel my warm cup half-full and waiting.