Magical doors

I really like doors. You open a door and walk through a threshold and you are in a different space than the one that you just left. Just like that. Almost instantly. Sort of like magic.

Over the past two years, I've heard more talk about walls than doors. Walls are good. They protect us from cold air. You can hang paintings from walls or you could paint a giant mural on a wall.

But the talk about walls isn't about murals or paintings or warm air. The talk is about how we want to wall off bad and scary influences. Strange people from strange countries.

We have to protect ourselves from THOSE PEOPLE. We have to protect the children from the strange people... because the children might get... ideas. They're very impressionable, you know. And not only are the children impressionable, they are also forgetful.

They might forget to be afraid, even if they are told over and over again that MONSTERS live on the other side of the walls that we build because we are AFRAID OF OUR OWN SHADOW. 

Can we really wall off our own shadows? Those darned shadows. They keep following us everywhere. Since it's virtually impossible to escape from a shadow, we may as well make friends with them. And then, there are the people. Unless we want to become hermits on mountain tops, well, there are always going to be other people around.

People who come from the house across the street and people who come from the other side of the world.  People who have different ideas and different stories to tell. I can't wait to meet them and, to make that happen, all I have to do is to open a door.