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Ambition
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Adventure...
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Shaking, my hand reaches for the doorknob. It shines before me, almost foreboding with its firey appearance, it's surface possibly hot or cold. I yearn to find out what's on the other side of the door, but hesitate, unable to bring myself to touch the door. Will my hand be scalded by indifference and uncaring fire? Or, will I freeze as my hand meets the bitter and unhappy cold? Can there be a happy medium where my hand meets warmth? Can there be a caring and kind presence on the other side of that door? And does my hesitation make the outcome better or worse?
I've spent so long on this side of the door. Time has taught me to trust what's on the other side, even though I can't see it. I pass notes and packages under the door without attempting to sneak a peak at what waits for me. I patiently stand behind the door, hoping to hear an answer, to get a letter in return, and for that answer to tell me whether or not I should reach for the door knob. I'm waiting for someone to tell me what's on the other side, and though I've moved forward, I'm standing still. I'm still on the wrong side of the door.
Hesitation rules my every move, fear and self-doubt clouding my judgment as my shaking, bleeding, dry hand nears the door. I've spent so much time gazing at that doorknob, through the changing seasons, through the years, too afraid to grab it.
Last night, as I sat at the computer, wide awake as the sun threatened to rise, I could see the door clearly in front of me. My hand was shaking just as terribly as ever, but there was a new determination and purposefullness to my movements. My hand touched the doorknob, and after years of expecting an immediate reaction, I was met with none. It was shocking to not find myself screaming in agony in one way or another. Instead, I was quietly ready to take a leap.
I've counted on others for a long time, and put myself in the back of my mind, in the back of my ambitions. I've pulled away from that door because I thought I needed someone's approval or go-ahead to move forward. I was waiting for someone to slip me a piece of paper that held the key to my future, and that's never going to happen, because it's my future, not theirs.
My voice cries to be heard, my lips quiver in anticipation as my fingers caress the doorknob, carefully wrapping my fingers around it, pushing myself towards it before pulling back. The door gives, unlocked, but I haven't walked through, yet. No, that all starts tomorrow.
I'll go to bed early tonight, but this night is different. Instead of staring at a closed door, wondering what it holds for me, wondering if the touch of the doorknob would scald or tear my skin; I gaze at that sliver of light pushing through the cracked door. My hands are unstained, untainted by the touch of the knob, and the possibilities of what lie behind that door are endless. It's still going to be difficult to face the unknown, but my heart is more set now than it has been in a long time. I'm finally going after an ambition that has laid at the bottom of my heart for too long. Tomorrow, I open that door.
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AUTHOR OF THIS MESSAGE
Muffy
MESSAGE TIMESTAMP
15 december 2006, 05:48:07
AUTHOR'S IP LOGGED
70.160.84.217
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