Hopeful Thinking - Saturday, January 13, 2017 - Go Through the Doors

    What are you afraid of? Think about it for a minute. Sort through the obvious ones like losing a loved one or of dying ourselves. Get to the weird ones. Or the unexplainable ones. I personally know someone who is afraid of red nail polish. Get to the fears you don’t really mention to anyone because you hardly notice them yourself. I still flinch when driving through intersections and it’s been many years since my very minor accident.
    I wonder about these fears. I wonder what they can tell us about ourselves. I think of them like symbolic dreams, but worse. We often know exactly what our fears mean. And yet feel so powerless against them. I’m sure scientists have come up with multiple categories for different types of fear. I deliberately chose not to look them up.
    Many years ago I decided to have a little ceremony on the bow of a cruise ship I was singing on as it headed east from the island of Ibiza where we had spent the day. It was a new moon. A good day for new ideas and new beginnings. The celestial equivalent of the beginner’s mind in Buddhism. I had something on my mind.
    I bought a cheap ring in a tourist stand that afternoon. I bought it for the purpose. It was rose quartz, carved into a plain, smooth band. I could have bought the same anywhere back in the states, but that wasn’t the point. I wanted a symbol. Rose quartz seemed an inexpensive but still authentic option. The heart stone.
    Late that night, after the show, I stepped out onto the deck and walked around toward the bow of the ship. Just a level below the bridge, I held the ring in my hand and said a prayer into the warm wind of the Mediterranean. It was really more of a promise. I made a commitment to face my fears. No matter how small.
    Until writing this it had never occurred to me how I had spent that earlier day in Ibiza. I spent it taking pictures of doors in the old city. I was fascinated by them. I imagined I should continue to photograph doors around the world and make a coffee table book. Ibiza’s were inspiring. Heavy wooden doors held with elaborate iron fasteners. Sometimes ornate, sometimes plain. Always fully functional.
    They were each different colors and styles and yet they somehow made a cohesive whole. Looking at the photographs side by side they would be easily recognizable as siblings. But perhaps the doors are like old married couples. The longer they spend together, the more they begin to resemble one another.
    It makes me wonder what was going on in my mind that day. I know I was contemplating fear. A subconscious awareness that something was holding me back. I already knew I was going to say my prayer that night. I shopped for the ring on purpose. Yet now, looking back, I find it curious that I should have been so absorbed by the doors.
    I’m going to venture to say that my subconscious was recognizing symbols of something I had already decided to do. Open doors and look inside them. It’s fascinating now to look back and see how my mind was preparing itself. I never realized until this very minute.
    I can say for a fact that after that night on April 15, 1999 my entire life changed. In ways too numerous to say here. I can also say for a fact that I directly owe that night to the life I have today. And I encourage you to do as I did. In your own way.
    Look for closed doors and imagine opening them. It’s perfectly okay to be afraid. Just don’t let that stop you. Separate the big fears from the small ones and start there. The fears themselves will create the order, but that’s okay. They end up giving themselves away in the process. Fear has no intelligence of its own.
    Don’t just look at the doors, go through them. All shall be well. In fact, better than well.