The Threshold
Oh Hi, Friend,
We have all heard the old adage that we have two wolves living inside of us. The one we feed the most is the one who wins out. We are told where our mind is, there will also be our heart. For each of us, it is different. The inner battles we have are known only to us. We can speculate on the fighting of others and extrapolate from their words what we think is going on in their mind. But that is just it. It is purely speculation, an educated guess at best (if you know them well.) This poem is one I have written and re-written many times over the last several years. I hope you enjoy it and find it relatable.
Vince
The Threshold
With one foot on the threshold of the door, the sun is almost directly above, which means the day is half over. People rush by, enjoying the beauty that seems to surround them. Should I go out? It looks so inviting. I see some of my friends. I feel the undeniable urge to be with them, to join them outside. Then I look back in.
On the inside, it’s familiar, and the furniture is comfortable. The quiet, while sometimes unbearable, is what I am used to. I see my family, my wife, my dogs, all the things that are most important to me in my life. So, what am I missing? Why would I want to go outside and miss all of this? Why the constant nagging feeling of needing to be somewhere else. Want to be with everyone outside? Is it the fresh air? The sunshine? Am I just being ungrateful for all I have by wanting more all the time?
Sometimes, I step out a little, just one foot on the stoop. Just enough for me to look around a little more and see how it feels to have the sun hit my face. The warm breeze blows around me like a hug. It is not just any usual hug, but the kind that feels like everything else in the world just disappears momentarily. It feels good outside. It makes me feel like this is where I belong. Then, almost always, a swift, cold wind blows. It seems like it came from nowhere, the kind of wind that cuts to the bone. The kind that makes you want to run inside and shut the door behind you as fast as you can. I feel the gust again. I think, “You should have been prepared for this; you don’t even have a jacket on. “ you left your hat on the back of the chair.” After pretending for a moment, the chilling on-slot does not bother me. I realize the pretend act is futile, and I step back inside with trepidation and dismay.
When I step back inside, it feels good. I feel at home. In some ways, I wish that I had never left. Again, I am with the people who matter the most to me. I am sitting where that cold wind can not touch me. But still, I miss the warm breeze. I only had one foot out the door, yet I could see and feel so much. How can I feel so at home here inside, so content, and at the same time feel like running outside as fast as I can and not look back?
I look around the room; my wife is on my right side. She is so good to me, and she treats me so well. She can see that I seem out of sorts and asks if she can do anything for me; I say no. And keep looking around the room. My parents are sitting across from me; they mean so much to me. I guess that’s why I felt the need to come back inside. If all these people were here and wanted me to be in here with them, then it would be selfish to want to be outside. I look to my left, and my brothers, my sister, and their children are there. I love and care about them more than I can explain. But even in this room full of these wonderful people who love me so much, all that keeps running through my mind is the things I saw going on outside. Would they understand if I went out there for a while just to see what it was like? Maybe take a short walk and talk with people I have not met yet. I could even invite someone I know to come with me.
I can’t take it. I am starting to feel closter-phobic. Soon, I find myself standing in the doorway again, one foot on the threshold, the aluminum was wearing smooth from the constant standing in one place.
I look up at the sun again. It has gotten lower in the sky. It is later now. The warm breeze is still there. I see even more people outside now. I can see some that I know and many that I don’t. Very alluring. I want to wander around, sit on a bench, and just people-watch. I see some very dark and ugly people. These people are interesting just the same. I am curious about their stories and what made them the way they are. Were they just like me before they decided to stay outside. Maybe they didn’t plan on staying outside for long, got lost, and couldn’t find their way back. I have wondered about that myself; I have asked what would happen if the sun did set while I was outside. If I found myself outside when the sky was dark.
The thought of the unknown makes me step back inside again. I sit down again in my usual spot and relax. Seeing that everything was the same as when I stood up, I don’t know how long I was standing in the doorway: this time, it might have been a few minutes, it might have been a few days, or even longer. The older I get, the more I have trouble keeping track of my time in the doorway. Sometimes, I get pulled back in because someone talks about something I need to hear. Sometimes, it is my wife calling me back inside, and although I would rather be outside, I listen and come back in because I love her, and that is what is expected of me. I have been told inside is where I am supposed to be with the people most important to me.
There was a time when I was allowed to go outside for a short time. I was allowed to spread my wings and learn to fly on my own a little. The only problem was that there were restrictions on my time. I was told what to do with every minute of my time. So, even though I was allowed to go outside, all I wanted to do was go back in, where things were familiar and comfortable. I felt drawn to be outside to meet new people and explore, but that was not allowed. So, in the end, I went back inside. I then tried to convince myself that the time outside was good for me and that it had been enough to make me realize that inside was where I needed to be and where I needed to stay. I was even successful for a time. I was perfectly content being back inside with my family and loved ones. Even though it was restricted, I thought the short time had taught me all there was to know about being outside. I felt convinced it was not for me; I was thrilled inside.
Time passed, and you guessed it, I was standing in the doorway again. Still standing in the same spot, watching the sun get lower and lower in the sky. It is still early in the day; I have most of it left. Will I step out the door? This time with both feet. I want to meet new people, find new paths, and finally see if being outside is where I want to be. What worries me the most is returning only to find the door locked and locked outside until the sun is gone. But maybe I would never come back to the door because I would love it so much outside, and the people I would meet would be so great I would just be content to be outside the rest of the day. And maybe some of my loved ones might come out and enjoy the sun with me. Perhaps even over the mountains to the west, the clouds would clear, the rain would stop, and we could all enjoy the rainbow.