The door symbolizes not only a way to reach another space, but it also symbolizes a space in itself. Hence the mysterious dimensions that usually are bestowed upon this object.
The door signifies the entrance towards a fundamental space. In temples, the gates that lead to the holiest parts are usually sumptuous doors that only the high priest can pass under. There’s also the entrance door of the temple – necessary to mark the difference between the sacred temple and the profane world.
In China, the closed door is considered as “yin” (passive, female energy) whereas the open door symbolizes “yang” (masculine, active energy). The universe then is constantly swinging between these two poles.
In Christianity, Jesus compares himself to the door through which all men can be saved. Hence the presence of the figure of Christ in the opening gates of cathedrals as well as celestial protective forces (such as Saint Michael or the apostle Peter).
Now you take the floor : what do you associate with The Door?
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the door separate two different worlds. when we close one door, the another will open for us..
we choose when to open and go forward and when to close and staying behind the door.
The door. I stand behind it and keep knocking. Even crying and banging it. Remembering the promise; Everyone who knocks, will get in.
But not me.
There must be an explonation-the guidence. My path will be different. I have learned so many valuable lessons about Gods godness in many forms. His precence is in everything, everyone. No matter what culture you represent.
Thats why this particular door was never truly opened to me. I had too many expectations. God had to teach me His true nature. That is love and respect for everything that has been created. Now I know better. Now I dont have to keep knocking. I am able to enter. I also am loved and wanted.
Not for the dogmas, but for the Great Spirits/Gods acceptance and love.
Love & Peace
Päivi
The front door to my little house came to mind after reading this article. I have lived in my house since August and have rarely opened or closed the front door. I use the back door to enter and exit my home. This house is a symbol of a major transformation in my life. I am not ready to open my front door just yet and am content with using the back door. I suppose I will start using the front door when I finally buy some furniture.
to me doors represent freedom. As the same Coelho has stated before, freedom is the right to choose, to make a decision. How many times have we been in front of doors, and it’s our decision to either open it and experience whatever is beyond that door, or just simply let it be, let it stand,…there,… closed.
Doors are mysterious entities…you never know what’s behind them. It’s scary, yet exciting. It is portrayed very well in movies, the cliche: main protagonist sees a door, hesitates; is either stopped before opening the door or opens the door to…
Doors are choices, chances, opportunities…whether good or bad. Once we’ve opened one, we can’t really forget what we see behind it, even if we close it back immediately.
I like the quote that says ‘your eyes are the doors to your soul’ or something like that…
You can avoid a look or be sucked into it…but once you’ve made eye contact it’s like you are face to face with a door and whether you want to open it (and communicate with the person) or keep it closed (and not communicate with the person), once you open the door, then you can just stay at the entrance (you become acquaintance or casual friends) or go right through (and become connected to that person)…thus leading to ‘knowing and having a relationship (romantic or not) with that person… am i making sense?! :-p
thanks for making us think…
What about alchemic doors?
they were built in houses of alchemysts in the 16th century.
Many of them are in Italy (Rome for example).
in Alchemy doors represent a passage from a level of the alchemyc path to the next one.
After reading the opinions in this blog I found out that alchemists were right.
Door is really a powerful symbol.
have a nice day
Some people may choose whether to open or close a door, but I don’t think that Jesus had the choice. Maybe he wasn’t saying it so grand. Maybe he was warning us.
Doors. Sometimes they represent the possibilities of beginnings and endings. They close as you drive away, isolating you from family and friends. They open like the arms of a loved one when you pull into the driveway. They close eternally at funerals; hopefully somewhere another door opens in eternity at that time. They inhabit “in between” spaces, not in one room or another, inside or outside.
Open or close?By a simple act of opening or closing the DOOR,we turne the impossible into possible.Potentiality becomes reality.Everyone becomes a creator,with every DOOR,which gets opened or closed.How to open the DOOR,which is yours?!It’s what Life is about..
The door:
“… you should now know that you are about to undergo a change…
You are leaving the former status and entering a new one”.
That’s what big doors usually say – in religious places, companies, offices and other places. And usually they work to raise/stress the profile/status of the defined space:
“make no mistake, in here you are not who you think you are out there…
here you should be humble, noble and respectful, you should abide by our ruled and leave your social identity outside the DOOR!”
For people I assume that a door is the instrument of a change. It indicates the limits of each persona that we all adopt in our multi-purpose everyday life. You walk past a door and you become a specialist in your field (at work). You walk past your house door and you become a family man. Or you walk past another door and you become a lover. Or you walk past a door you’ve never walked before and you become a helpless child!
People often play the game of the role/door!
So, a door indicates a change; something you leave behind, something you go to find.
Personally I find doors challenging in that way. I tend to explore/ the limits of my main persona. I am constantly trying to extend the limits of my self’s persona and try to make it work in all of these doors if possible!
I instantly thought of that one movie with Nicole Kidman, where all the houses were just drawn lines on the floor, and a door. Doors are sometimes more important than walls…
SAVITA VEGA you have beautiful way of putting thoughts and stories into words and sentences….
First of all enjoy progressive discussion – very educating atmosphere is created…
For me from my previous experience “Door” is an internship which enables you to connect University life to Professional life…
Apart from that, regarding the other associations and interpretations of the theme intoduced: Door is an example of globalization, development, expansion into different dimension, sphere, environment…
Famous rock band “The Doors” was named in order to enable its listeners to understand the idea behind their music…
Tres beau poeme.
La porte entrouverte
Je suis entrée par une porte entrouverte,
J’ai posé mon sac à l’intérieur de la pièce,
La tempête faisait rage dehors et j’étais au sec,
Aujourd’hui les nuages sont loin derrière,
Me voilà face à une porte de nouveau entrouverte,
Un sac à l’intérieur vide et des affaires plein l’étagère,
Un inconnu est entré et m’a emmenée sur la mer,
Derrière la porte le paysage était de nouveau clair,
Me voilà aujourd’hui, un sac vide par terre,
Des souvenirs et des bibelots plein les étagères,
Derrière la porte, souffle une brise légère,
Des sons lointains, des cloches et le tintement de la mer,
Je suis debout devant la porte entrouverte,
Je l’ai poussé pour regarder ce qu’il y avait derrière,
Deux chemins complètement opposés diffèrent,
L’un revient sur mes pas et l’autre retourne en arrière,
Devant la porte, je me gratte la tête,
Dans la porte, je me cogne la tête,
Derrière la porte, j’ai chaud mais je regarde en arrière,
Derrière la porte, j’ai froid mais je bouge sans arrêt,
Alors que faire ?
Fermer la porte et oublier ce qu’il y a derrière ?
Passer la porte et attraper mon sac par terre ?
Alors que faire ?
Les signes m’ont fait retrouver l’inconnu de la mer,
Les signes ont applaudi ces 15 ans de quête,
Les signes aujourd’hui se sont tus et me laissent
Là, au seuil de la porte de nouveau entrouverte…
To me there are 2 perspectives of looking at Door.
From the inside:
—————-
When I was a child, I associate a closed door with safety. When I was home alone, I always locked the door. If I double-locked it, I feel even safer. When I have to leave home, opening the door would mean that the unknowns await (both good and bad).
Even till now, a closed door from the inside still means security. And it is even more, it’s personal space and privacy. But at times, it also means being trapped or loneliness.
But more often than not, you always have the choice to open your door or closed it if you are from the inside.
From the outside:
—————–
This is more tricky in the sense that a lot of the doors (both literally and figuratively) remain a mystery till today. This is because I am not given the opportunity to open them. But after a while, I realized that when a door is closed, there is no point in forcing it open. There is always reason why some doors are closed for me, this will lead me to those doors that are opened and in fact better suited for me.
God knows what’s best for his child and being able to follow the sign is the greatest of all.
…Vio
Doors to me are like the days that pass by. As a new day begin, we open the door called today to new opportunities. “What is in store for us?” is the question that fills our minds every time we open the door of today. Then when the day ends, we exit at the other end and get ourselves ready to open another door named tomorrow.
It symbolizes my consciousness. Through it I can experience the transcendental divine Being.
The doors in my house are closed only in the depths of winter. The first warmish day I fling them open and that’s how they stay until the frosty winds come back in November. Doors represent a static state. Better yet, they seem like potential energy – a closed door invites speculation. “What will I find behind that door when I open it and go inside? Am I invited in or will I be intruding?” If I am inside, then the question becomes, “What will happen to me if I go out that door? Can I control what happens to me and will it be bad?” In any case, it’s speculation, fantasy, potential for anything to happen.
When I see an open door, it is an invitation – active, an opportunity, releasing its kinetic energy. An open door invites flow and continuity. I bring myself into an open door without forethought or anxiety. Just the continuous flow of my life through that door, mixing and melding with whatever I find there. The door was open so I am wanted…
I have many doors. Doors to open, doors to walk through, doors i’ve left behind. But i know of doors for some remained closed, They only imagine what is beyond that door, what they are being deprived of. This is the case for many people across the world, closed doors for a undisclosed amount of time. Something as simple as being told what books you can read in school, and what you cannot, Closed Door to education. I say we open them all, for everyone who wants to walk through. It is these people around the world I thank for giving me the opportunity to walk through doors, not just the door of my thoughts…, the doors of the world…*
What is one without a door?
I found a key the other day.
The Doors of Perception
What an amazing story, Thelma. Thanks so much for sharing it!
Love,
Savita
i don’t suppose gates or doors are one the same.
The door she should have never crossed
Papa always tells me story if i insist on him during bed time,his voice does soothing effect for me,when i want to forget i am in earth.More the world troubles me more i act like a child,i don’t even let him go off the sight sometime until i close my eyes,like i use to cling to my mom’s dress and beg her not to leave me in the nursery with other kids and scarry teachers,when i was admitted to kindegarten.Some stories i take it lightly,until i see them in dreams because dreams are my reality of the past present and future.
Synopsis of the book( Hope for everyone)
Finally after millions of years of stubborness,God let Angel Hope reach the end.Hope still was walking talking to herself playing with her stones.She had always expressed sadness to God saying why he erased her mind and brought her back to heaven.She had told him don’t do it on me,i have to go to earth,i want to go to earth.She was returned again,but this time she had no ideathat she had reached where she had always wished for.From the distance she saw a huge black serpent,it was shinny black and looked ready to devour any creature which stood on it’s way.Angel Hope got scared and tears strated rolling from her eyes and said,* papa,help me*.The black serpent could sense that something was near it,and was speeding up.The little angle couldn;t scream neither could run,she saw a huge wall,she climbed on it hoping the black creature didn’t see her.She was full of tears and calling on to her father.Everything flashed before her eyes,she was saying,papa help me,i will never leave you again,the snake couldn’t see her but could sense her presence ,coz it started climbing the walls,and the angel again took another step to another great wall,now she saw there were 2 serpents big enough to devour even big elephants.She couldnt; scream,coz that would bring them near too fast,her eyes were full of tears and she knew that God must be crying seeing her like that.
Angel luci and angel hope were together ever since ,they were best of friends but Luci had once dared to think of the unthinkable,he had said,Come on Hope you know we can rule better than God.Hope stood there still after hearing these words,but luci went on,to God to challenge,him but even before he could go near the throne Angel Hope took out her sword and went swifter than the light to block Luci’s path.Stay where you are,no one can come near my father’s throne and struck her sword on his neck.Luci was devasted,he thought he could count on her ,for they were more than friends,he even tried to reason out and make her change her mind but Hope was more furious and he had never seen Hope like that.They both fought the battle and HOpe threw him out from there,then the God voice was echoing everyhwwere,*you cant even fight with my HOpe how can you ever think to win me.*
After the incident ,the news was there that Luci has been thrown to earth after he again did something bad in a beautifl orachard where father go for rest sometime.Hope thought how could he do such a thing after staying in heaven for solong and if he wen to earth it means more people going to suffer.If he can stay with God for billions of years like a son and betray him then how much people of earth.
Why Hope wanted to go to earth ,God only knows,but it seems like God was hurt little bit,although she wanted to find the portal to earth for Good reasons,it seems like she wanted to find Luci too either to change his heart or to save people and givethem hope,even after standing against him for Father.
Angels Hope had reached the last wall that remained,when she turned back and bent below she saw clouds and green places,she was actually standing at the portal of earth or at the gate.She was still crying papa,i do love you save me from these serpents,and like a little child her face was washed with tears,and then sudden;y an unknown force pushed her back and Angel hope screamed,*Papa*,and fell down to the unkown and maybe that unknown was earth.
Etymology: from open sesame, the magical command used by Ali Baba to open the door of the robbers’ den in Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
Date: circa 1837
And when he came to the aforesaid rock and to the tree whereon Ali Baba had hidden himself, and he had made sure of the door he cried in great joy, “Open, Sesame!” The portal yawned wide at once and Kasim went within and saw the piles of jewels and treasures lying ranged all around, and as soon as he stood amongst them the door shut after him, as wont to do. He walked about in ecstasy marveling at the treasures, and when weary of admiration, he gathered together bags of ashrafis, a sufficient load for his ten mules, and placed them by the entrance in readiness to he carried outside and set upon the beasts. But by the will of Allah Almighty he had clean forgotten the cabalistic words, and cried out, “Open, Barley!” Whereat the door refused to move. Astonished and confused beyond measure, he named the names of all manner of grains save sesame, which had slipped from his memory as though he had never heard the word, whereat in his dire distress he heeded not the ashrafis that lay heaped at the entrance, and paced to and fro, backward and forward, within the cave, sorely puzzled and perplexed. The wealth whose sight had erewhile filled his heart with joy and gladness was now the cause of bitter grief and sadness.
Dear/est Paul from Austria, is your …KEY the …Open Sesame??
LOVE,
Thelma
“Doors” reminded me of the church on top of the hill of the small Bourgogne village of Vézelay in France. For many pilgrims, a starting or passing point on the road to Santiago de Compostella. The church has a portal with three doors, an entry and an exit door, and in the middle a big gate opening up to a path lightened in the middle on the 24th of June with sun spots falling through the windows. The path leads to the choir that is enlightened by big gothic windows. The bas reliefs in the portal doors are magnificent, symbols of ancient times, old, universal wisdom. I can recommend people that feel the need to experience the symbol of going through a door, to go there and experience. The monks and sisters also have heavenly voices!
love,
Rita
***He said he was living in the WRONG part of Europe…
When he tried to find roses smell in Paris he just found ”fromage”! and “fromageries”!
*** Aphrodisiacs made from Latvian native plants, Pagan ritual allusions: he thought she could teach a lot about love and passion to the French people.
*** When she told him of “mist”, he thought of the Baltic Sea, with a heavy shroud of white wet air hanging over its rocky shores, where a man with bright multispectral eyes was playing the piano, suspended over the rolling waves. Like carpet in a roll, the waves quietly lapped against the shore rhythmically sequenced as the long haired blond woman watched the Pianoman playing music.
***When he wanted to hear more about her violin, she told him about the power of abstraction – just related each string of a violin to a set of ideas about Man and Nature.
***She reminded him of several scenes from that film by Tarkovsky “Andrey Rublyov” (1966): the pagan rites in the forest. Lakes and fires.
***And when his own attention was focused on the “larger picture” (through note articulation, tempo, dynamics and accent), he again wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to talk to her again and again. He wanted to practice their chromatic scales in Unison while singing ”do, di, re, ri, mi, fa, fi,…” Solfeggio and “movable do” – her system. Elegant key changes using tonic/dominant shifts and… She opened the Door, letting him come in…
I see my life as a long corridor with lots of doors.
A Door to enter – for me is a challenge, new possibilities, new level, new knowledges.
A Door to exit is – gained experience, knowledge and a past.
To enter a new door/room/level I need a key, which I took, gained or was given in the room I just exit.
Dear Thelma,
Someone just gave me a Doors t-shirt yesterday. Ha! More synchronicity! I hadn’t thought much of it until now. Like I said, it is becoming a week of doors.
A door is an opportunity to shut another out, or let another in. A door is symbolic of the rightful heritage of freedom that the western world has fought for centuries to obtain and is in jeopardy of losing. We don’t understand that the purpose of freedom is not sensitivities, nor gullibility to the point of self annihilation, self depreciation whether as an individual or as a countrymen, of the very values of freedom that our ancestors laid their lives on the line to obtain for their future generation, you. We have been fooled into believing that the sensitivities of others is of more value then the very heritage we have been given, our own.
A door is an opportunity to experience peace.
The first thing I thought of was doorways as entryways and thresholds as what you cross to enter into possibilities…similar to Diane DeFruscio’s reply.
The second thing I thought of was a movie I once saw called “The Door in the Floor.”
Then I thought of a story that I heard when I was a little girl about a lady who had a choice to make between two doors…behind one door was her beloved and behind the other door was a hungry tiger.
door for me symbolize a few things, but the 1st which comes in my mind is some kind of PRIVACY,,,,,,,
doors in our hearts,,, can be open or close with us to decide if we want to keep them close or open,,,, we can hide behind doors,,, we can have all kind of secrets!!!! behind doors,,,, so for me in this moment door would mean the in side of myself with all the best privacy ever!!!!!
“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
Blessed are they who wash their robes so as to have the right to the tree of life and enter the city through its gates.
Outside are the dogs, the sorcerers, the unchaste, the murderers, the idol-worshipers, and all who love and practice deceit.
I, Jesus, sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the root and offspring of David, the bright morning star.” [Revelation 22:13-16]
Very interesting post For me a door is an analogie to open up for others
change,
promise
I associate the door to be the tunnel of transition.
Door-enter, exit, wood, metal, decisions
The door can be everithing you wan it to be:
a beginning
an end
a challenge
a chance
an obstacle
a secret
a passage to anyhing: to another room, to another life,to a new relation, to the death…
I think the meanning of that door in front of you it is preety much dpending on who you are in the moment you are standing in front of it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acglPhYoqKQ&feature=related
The Doors. Jim Morisson.
LOVE,
Thelma
I’d second the fragment of a thought Lina L.!!
I think that this is entirely true
door= challenges and possibilities
When the doors of perception are cleansed, man will see things as they truly are, infinite.
William Blake
English engraver, illustrator, & poet (1757 – 1827)
A door is either open or closed.[or ..broken!!!].;]
It is a ..passage from a room to another, or from a level of existence to another. An entrance to something else. Symbolically means the opening of our inner senses.
It is also ‘wise’ to guard our ‘doors’ from Evil. To vibrate in the same level means also ‘opening to .. other beings our doors.
The doors of Paradize and the doors of Hades in Greek Mythology.
I symbolize the Mouth as a door to our soul, our breath, but our Words =LOGOS [Λόγος] come out of it.
LOVE,
Thelma
I want to live in a birdhouse. Have you ever
noticed how they have no doors?
…
I want to live in a birdhouse,
with always-open doors
for each and all to run away when they want to.
Lines a poem I wrote. And coincidentally (synchronistically), this has been, or is becoming, a week of doors for me. I had friends over this weekend for a barbecue and as we sat waiting for the ribs to cook, we had a conversation about doors. I thought little of it at the time, but now you have me thinking about the symbolism inherent in the topic of that conversation. One couple talked about a fight they once had, or rather, a big misunderstanding, which ended with him sticking his foot through the bathroom door during a party they were having, thinking his wife was locked in there with another man, doing who-knew-what! Such was not the case at all, and he said he felt like the biggest fool. But in that moment, something had triggered a button within him, reminding him of his first wife who was indeed capable of and had, in fact, committed such acts of betrayal and deceit. In an instantaneous fit of rage, he slammed into a door that was not even locked, leaving a huge gash down the middle of it. Later, he went out and purchased the supplies and together, he and she created a gorgeous mosaic which filled in that gash in the door. I’ve seen it: made of broken pieces of mirror, it is in the design of flower, perhaps a lily, that seems to spring forth out of the center of the door and shoots upward toward the ceiling. It is magnificent!
The first time I beheld that door, I knew nothing of the story behind it, and I assumed that they had simply created that mirrored lily of the valley in the center of it, of their own accord, for the sheer pleasure and beauty of it. Now that I do know the story behind it, it seems to me even more spectacular, because I believe that the actual physical objects in our lives, particularly in our homes, hold a significance on a sort of spiritual level as well, and as such, often point to what is happening with us on a spiritual level. I see that door as a healing for him, especially in they way he describes it himself. He obviously had a lot of pent up jealousy and anger due to past experiences with his first wife, who did betray him. When he crashed in that door, and he and his new wife, together, created a thing of beauty and grace from that scar, in essence, that was an occasion of healing the hurt from his past, enabling him now to move on and trust again.
There were other stories about doors that we shared during our conversation, and strangely enough, now that I think of it, most of them involved some sort of violence or outburst of anger. this in itself seems a testament to the strong symbolic relevance of doors in our lives, as well as to how frustrated we often become when we love someone and yet feel that we are being shut our, either wholly or from a part of their lives.
Okay, I’ll be perfectly honest – as crude and perhaps uncouth as this may seem to some – as it seems only fair, I’ll also offer up the story, my “door story,” that I related in that conversation: This was many years ago, when I was much more hot-tempered and impetuous than I am now at forty-two. I was living with a young man – we were both in our early to mid-twenties. One otherwise peaceful Sunday afternoon, when all was quiet in the condo complex I lived in, we got into an argument concerning yet ANOTHER infidelity on his part. He had a habit of bringing me expensive jewelry every time he went out and slept with another woman. The pattern was always the same: he would have a fling, of which I was wholly unaware, and then, suddenly, completely out of the blue, he would come home with a nice little box, all wrapped in fancy paper, and containing a sapphire ring, a diamond necklace, a topaz bracelet…etc. Then, shortly after I opened the package, at least within the next twelve hours, would come the confession. So that is what had happened on this lovely Sunday afternoon, preceding the argument. Now, where I lived, my little condo, was on the fourth floor, and just outside the front door, to the left, where three flights of stairs, just slightly off-set from one another, leading down to the sidewalk and the parking lot below. So, we had our little argument, which really wasn’t so little – for me it was the end, absolutely the limit of what I could take in terms of being asked to forgive and forget, AGAIN – and, at the end of it, what seemed more like the middle of the conversation, he said, “I’m leaving now,” and walked out the door. This was what he always did, rather than dealing with the issue, getting to the bottom of it: he would simply walk out and leave me there until I cooled down and AGAIN let him back into my house, my life, my heart. At the moment he walked out that door, I don’t remember consciously thinking anything, I just remember suddenly becoming Superwoman. I stepped to the door just as it closed behind him – and keep in mind that i am not a big woman, weighing all of about 125 pounds and having no upper body strength at all – and I grabbed that door, by the knob I guess, a thick metal door, and ripped it completely off the hinges. It so surprised me that I remember a moment of looking at the door I was holding and thinking, “How on earth did I do that?” He was on the staircase, about halfway down, when this happened, and he turned to look back up at me – me there holding this door in my hands – with an equal look of surprise on his face. Then, in the next instant, and with all the might I could possibly muster, I flung that door down the stairwell behind him, screaming out as it tumbled down, end over end, “Here the door! Take it with you when you go!” That was the end of our relationship. He returned only once, to collect his things, and this he did, at my request, when I was not there.
Again, this event meant little to me at the time. I don’t think I thought in terms of symbolism back then, nor was i mature enough to even begin to ponder the greater significant of the material objects we possess and interact with in our daily lives. To me, a door was just a door, and that one was an expensive one to replace. Luckily, I literally lived for the next full year on the proceeds I reaped in selling off, piece by piece, the jewelry he had given me.
Now, however, it is so clear to me what that door meant, as well as what it meant for me as this small-framed, thin young woman to muster the monumental strength to finally rip that door off its hinges so that it could be used no longer as a re-entry point for this man to keep coming back into my life, again and again, after each and every betrayal. It wasn’t enough to simply shut the door, or even to lock it, as I loved him dearly, or at least I sincerely believed I did at the time. My heart was defenseless, it was a door without a lock. So what did I finally do to get him out of my life? I had to rip the whole door off its hinges, tell him to take it with him – which he did, he took it out the dumpster and threw it in – then I had to go out and buy a new door to replace it.
Not a “beautiful” story, perhaps, and it certainly didn’t seem beautiful in the living of it, but the symbolism inherent in it…! Symbolism can be so exquisite when we have eyes to see it and to understand how it plays itself out in our lives.
Right now, in this very period, I am dealing with yet another “door” in my life: yet another metaphorical door representing something larger and deeper than the actual physical object itself. This door, in my house, is the door to what I used to call the “guest bedroom.” Then, at one point, some months ago, I redecorated it and painted it, and began calling it “the Red Room.” Now, recently, it has become “S’s room.” That is my boyfriend, and that room is where he keeps his things, where he stays when he sleeps over, where we spend time together. This may seem strange to some, but there are several factors contributing to this arrangement, not the least of which is the fact that a very high wall (see entry under The Wall) exists between the world he inhabits and the world in which I live. He crosses over into my world, but I dare not enter his. Not only does he forbid it, but it is a place that I do not wish to go. To define it in general terms, his is a world of high-speed, high-adventure, intrigue, crime and even drugs. It is the Underworld of this tiny town we live in. (And believe me, tiny villages, at least those in this part of the world, do have their Underworlds, just as deep and dark and dangerous as anything you might find in any large city.) My world is this secluded twenty-something peaceful acres of forest i call “Avalon” in the center of which sits my house, and the focal point of which (the Navel or Axis Mundi) is this magnificent oak tree in my back yard. Here is the place my boyfriend, inhabitant of the Underworld, refers to as Sanctuary. And that Red Room, the Holy of Holies.
So what do you do with a door that only swings one way? You sit on the inward side of it…and you wait. And as you’re waiting, every slightest sound that breaks the peaceful silence of this place becomes the sound of a key turning the tumblers in the lock. He has his own key, and sometimes he arrives at 2:45 on a Tuesday afternoon. Sometimes at eight o’clock sharp, just in time for dinner. Sometimes at midnight. Sometimes I awaken at four a.m., sensing a presence in the house – I open the door to the Red Room, and find him sleeping peacefully there, so soundly that thunder could not wake him, weary and worn and battle-torn as knight newly returned from the fields of war.
Kick him out! Lock the door! Take away the key! But those are logical answers and the universe we inhabit is not always so neatly bounded by the yardstick of logic. Sometimes, in order to make real progress in our lives – as painful or excruciating as that progress may be – we have to move outside the realm of sheer logic and not only acknowledge but actually delve into and deal with what is really happening on a spiritual level, to us and to those around us. In medieval times, a “sanctuary” was a holy place, generally a church or temple of some sort, that offered a safe haven to those who were persecuted, immunity from the law to those who, in the law, found no justice. Unlike the churches of today, those of medieval times never locked their doors, as their was recognition of the fact that even in the dead of night there might come one who was in need, either in physical need, or in spiritual need, or both. So, in this context, would it be right to close and lock the door to a sanctuary? Though it seems most logical, though it seems in keeping with the defensive and self-serving “me first” mentality of the era in which we live, I cannot do it. I think: a little food, a peaceful and uplifting environment, a bit of compassion. These cost very little to me and yet they may make all the difference to another in terms of illuminating a life that could be lived if only that door to the Underworld were locked and forgotten forever. What cost is it to shed a little light in a world of darkness? A glimpse of what is possible.
” Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will supper with him and he with me.” REVELATION 3:20
It’s true that Jesus inisted that He is the only door to the Kingdom of God but He also spoke about our door. How ready are we to welcome Him or as a matter of fact to welcome anyone in our own space?
Under that same subject, I would like to mention what the late Pope John Paul II said about the doors of the soul: ” Open wide the Door to Christ”: menaing to accept Him in our life and to surrender to His love without fear.
Of course, the door links two worlds together. Coming from a Middle Eastern culture, it is normal for people around here to sit outside their doors or maybe open them so they see who is coming or going so they would chat with this one, check on that one’s family and welcome others to join in for coffee…
Opening a door means being ready or having time to share with others anything from your own space, maybe just a chat…
We go through doors every single day. Some are there to be seen and open and even closed. Other doors are only visible to the soul.
Meant to symbolise the “crossing”, just like a bridge (built by a pontiff – 1570–80; < L: appar. lit., path-maker, equiv. to ponti- (s. of pōns) bridge, prob. orig., path (see pons ) + -fec- (comb. form of facere to make) at http://www.dictionary.com under pontifex), the door takes us from one place into another, from one time into another.
Wish you all a great week!
Hernán
A Door is representing so many things for me.An exit,a way to escape.
Doors:many way to escape.
Opening a door,a new adventure.Opening doors within yourself.
There’s also this common saying that when a door is closed,many others are open.But when I visualise a door,I always see it wide open and never closed.
Doors opening to new dimensions,new horizons.
Begin and end and begin again..
It can be many things but to me it always carries good vibes.
It’s my perception.
“The doors of perception”.
And make me think of course of the greatest band of all times:
“The Doors” of course!!
Unhappy Girl not so unhappy after all..
;)
Dear Paulo,
You pose an interesting question. Of course, the door symbolizes many things. The image of a door conveys the feeling of a threshold to me – that place where we pass from one world into another. It is always a transition and most often requires a decision to enter or not. Still what stands out most in my mind is always the idea of possibilities, some familiar and some yet to be discovered.
Thank you, Paulo.
Love,
Diane
I remember a way to say a person was steady.Like if u shut the door in front of him,he would enter through the window.No escape.
Well,door might be a challenge.Lets say we see a locked door.We might get curious,or not.Maybe we will try to open it,that implyes courage,for we dont know what is expecting beyond.
Sincerely,door dont inspire me much.
Only I remember something from feng shui,that a door must look friendly,warm,so that friends come to visit us.?
I have a fragment of a thought here. Since I had been thinking about this earlier, I would have to say, that the phrase of ‘opening the door’ (and maybe even stepping out of a door) means opening Your eyes and Your heart to Your life, and to the rest of the world. Seeing something important for the very first time, finding yourself, etc.
And closed door represents someone who is living inwards, is depressed, not open for life.
For me the door takes the form of the human soul overall.
But a door generally, for me, means a way to get to another space, or to another level. Both can be symbolically taken.
the voice of the adult.
dividing space, realities, time, people etc..
or as an opening passagway onto a path.
the door might not necessarily be something rectangular -
but for me airports are like doors …. there is a timeless quality to humanity at airports ; and to time itself…
so doors represent maybe opportunity? for on either side are different spaces, realities – so the door as it opens and closes possesses an infinite amount of potential for what can manifest..
we have learnt to knock at doors, wait outside doors – allowing for spaces to become socialised, private and communication structured…
i love doors in ancient countries – somehow the door has maintained its essence, special symbolism …
rotating doors in hotels etc…
they are still like a time machine… a moment’s pause in life’s chaos to greet someone, look and reflect back…
bar doors are all about convenience … they swish back and forth… like a dance between those who move in and out via the door.
stable doors are about holistic peace for me – the bottom remains closed: as structure and order of one’s cultured life is respected; but then the top door is open – to allow fresh, new air in and to cleanse, without changing… thus time moves in and out from one space to the other freely.
so many doors these days have bolts, bars, spy holes etc…
it is a sad reflection of humanity.
but then we have come a long way since the castle moat and drawbridge – so i shan’t condemn the door as yet ;o)
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