Small Doors
Doors can lead us outside the confines of our own “spaces”—both physically and metaphorically. They’re an invitation to go somewhere different, see something new—take a breath of fresh air and get an alternative perspective.
Metaphorically, big doors are easy to spot. They announce themselves and invite you to go through them. I’m thinking about large, external things that we believe will be life changing. Maybe it’s a career, a course of study, a philosophy, a religion, a relationship, an adventure, retirement, or a spiritual quest. Big doors often come with their own set of assumptions and philosophies. Whether you walk through these doors or not is up to you, and if you’re having trouble deciding, you might need to find and open a few other doors first.
In my own life, I’ve often gone through big doors—choosing paths that I believed would have a huge impact. But when I look back, I realize that often, they didn’t. And the biggest insights came from noticing and opening small doors.
Small doors are easy to miss. An offhand comment that somehow gets to the heart of the matter. An observation about yourself that reveals something so absurd that you just have to laugh. A line from a movie, song, or piece of writing that speaks volumes to your soul. A myth or fairy tale that parallels your life. Small doors softly nudge us to consider another way of thinking, another way of feeling. But, unlike big doors, they rarely announce a change, or tell how to think or feel. They sneak up on you.
Sometimes, when you’re feeling stuck and you need a way out—it’s hard to find a small door. I like to think of my work as a Jungian coach as offering my clients a small door, and inviting them to open it up and take a peek beyond it. Those doors usually take the form of questions.
I like the small doors. They give us little glimpses that can have big impacts.
But you have to find them. And open them. And at least look at what’s behind them.
This blog is about noticing something small that serves as a lever to a big realization that can lead to lasting change of perspective. What are your small doors?
Note: I often travel with my “sister from a different mister,” Liz King. She’s obsessed with doors and we take pictures of interesting ones we see. Most of the images of doors on this blog can be attributed to her.
I don’t remember the location of each of the doors appearing on this blog, but the one above, to a church called Casa da Misericórdia (House of Mercy) on the Camino Portuguese, brought us to a very profound experience.
Anyway, thanks, Liz, for helping me pay attention to doors!
How can Tarot predict the future?
I first became interested in Tarot cards when I was in high school, before I ever heard of Jung. The deck I have now—a Rider-Waite deck—is the same one I had then. I always thought Tarot offered a way into some hidden knowledge—though I had no idea how it worked. At that time, it seemed otherworldly and magical—just what I needed to escape the angst of adolescence.
How could I have been such a fool?
“The Fool can burst unexpectedly into our personal lives with the result that, despite all conscious intentions, we end up playing the fool ourselves.” Sallie Nichols, Jung and Tarot, (1980, p. 10).
What’s so wrong about being wrong?
I attended a conference on teaching and learning in higher education about 20 years ago and saw a presentation that has stayed with me all these years. So yes…another small door…
What’s wrong with questions?
When my brother was a teenager, my mother would ask him a million questions about what he was doing, where he was going, who was he going with. You know. The usual “mom questions.”
Why not?
For as long as I can remember, I was on a “quest.” I think a lot of people are, though the nature of the quest might vary from person to person, and what may be meaningful to one might seem frivolous to another.
Well, how did you get here?
What brought you here? If you’re over 35 and are looking for a “small door,” maybe you’re experiencing what’s referred to as a “midlife crisis”—which most of us go through, sometime after 35, regardless of how we view our lives. (Yeah, I know. I also thought midlife started at 60. Nope.)