The Other Door by Matthew Riley

 

 Edward Hopper, Rooms by the Sea, 1951.

 

The Other Door

The hardest thing to attain is something from nothing. And then you look closer, quietly, and maybe you are there, in this room by the sea. And you think again maybe something from nothing is the best of all somethings.

You are here, no mirrors, no phones or screens. Maybe you wish to see a fishing pole, or a beach with umbrellas, people holding ice cream, people to visit when you get bored. Have you dreamed this before? You and your 40 days and 40 nights. 

The pill, the face, the form, the features often lead you to a deception, a smile leading nowhere, always something missing. 

Sit at the open door with your legs dangling. Here is your liminal seat. Turn back to the room, now forward to the sea. The world and the world. So different and so much the same. Or is it you who is the same no matter the space or time? Is there another door, a door beyond your senses?

Stare at the sea. Empty your mind. Your thoughts become more random with each minute. Did you find inner peace?  No. You are running. You are running but the steps lead nowhere.   

How long will you wait? Maybe a fin sails above the surface, maybe a leaping fish, and the sun, and the salt spray, the smells of the sea. How long will you hold your eyes to the glistening of the sun on the water’s surface.  Five minutes, ten, an hour? When will nothing become something?

Where is the other door? The one beyond your senses and what waits behind? I will tell you. Behind the other door is your soul. It has been slowly dying from the wall of your mind. Your mind sits between the light and your heart like seeds fallen on dark, rocky soil, rarely releasing its love to the world.