Today I am grateful for closed doors. Sometimes when I’m driving around I look at the door to someone’s house and wonder what is beyond it.
I’ve occasionally watched the train-wreck show Hoarders and believe me, what looks like a perfectly normal or even beautiful door can hide amazing stuff. Behind some doors are antiques, others might have ultra-modern furniture. Some might be pristine with every single thing in place, although probably not the ones of any friend of mine. My friends are all more real than that. Others might be ready for the clutter shows with pizza boxes and debris covering every square inch and roaches and rats running amok. Most probably hit someplace in between.
Behind some doors people are struggling with money issues, illness, sadness or fear. Behind another door is a couple with a new baby and the lack of sleep that involves, or an older, person who hopes it snows so he can go outside and chat with the neighbor while they shovel. When I drive around I imagine that someone is falling in love behind that door and another is trying to find a way to leave an abusive relationship. I picture comfortable, well-fed, happy children and abused, cold, starving children. Believe me you don’t want to be in my head. It’s exhausting.
Everything you can imagine goes on behind closed doors and I am grateful for what goes on behind mine.