Un-learning doorways


I saw a picture of a front door today.
We have been there
Through that door
Inside that home.

And I thought of another doorway.
We have been there
Through that door
Inside that home.

And I thought one
Always exciting and welcoming and warming
A place I (you?) want to return to again and again –

And the other
Always scary and dangerous and of “no return”
A place I (you?) wasn’t even sure I (you?) wanted to enter –

But I (you?) did.

And found it was no doorway at all.
Never had been. Never would be.

Just a doorway I (you?) had learned to create.
Just as I (you?) learned to stay on this side.

And learned to fear the “other side”.
And then found a lot of teaching.

Isn’t true.

You saw a picture of a front door?
Then see a picture of my front door.
There is no

“ALL ARE WELCOME”

You and me … ?
We don’t need one.
We are family

If you want to see a door –
See a door. But know this.

There is no key
And you can come and go
as you wish.

That’s what family does.

 

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8 thoughts on “Un-learning doorways

  1. At first I thought I had come across one of my own Autobiographical poems – its summary is

    But I (you?) did.

    And found it was no doorway at all.
    Never had been. Never would be.

    Just a doorway I (you?) had learned to create.
    Just as I (you?) learned to stay on this side.

    And learned to fear the “other side”.
    And then found a lot of teaching.

    Isn’t true.

      • Choice
        Sometime during my life I passed thru’ the door where no way is.
        Whether from choice, I entered in, or crawled my way in, as children do who have no respect for doors.
        Sometime during my life I passed thru’ the door to the place where I have become an intrinsically evil act wanting commission. There is no knob on this side of the door. The sand is soft here and I sink deeply. Anger, resentment, and foolish pride drive me into this sinking sand. Depression overwhelms me-
        This is the Choice I could not make I could never choose wrong.
        The angrier I get, the deeper I sink, Until I choke on sand and drown in blues Yet still there is no knob on this side of the door. What attitude, then, can put solid ground beneath my feet and remove this miasma of blues from my mind?
        Whether by chance I entered in or crawled my way in as children do with no respect for doors. I am blind and tap my precarious way from catechism to banana skin.
        And to my grave?
        This journey of no seeing, little knowing, leads–?
        To damnation if I continue to chart my own course and pine for the time, I am handed ratification on a plate.
        Not only anger but also pride thrashes me around until they sink me.
        I cannot accept that I am a Lesbian, that my very strong needs and desires are wrong in the eyes of God and more wrong, abominable the actions.
        For if, this way is wrong then I deny it. For IIIIIIIII cannot do wrong!
        Deny it! I cannot for it straddles me between banana peel and catechism. Thus, in my struggle I would control Control and before I slip into the, grave, rewrite catechism with God’s blessing, to favour me.
        I hear you, how you love to remind me
        – But ‘dear’ you say ‘the Church does not prohibit being’.’ However’ I say ‘IT does prohibit lust’.
        – But you say ‘All lust is wrong.’ But some lust’ I say’ seems more wrong than others’
        – There is a cool green cloud that moves out from me, beyond the cloud of unknowing of unbecoming becomingly? It has grown with me through precarious doubt, suffocating depression and every dichotomy and it will be my hope for this cool green cloud is the sign of hope and life to me that is for me the knob on this other side of the door. There is a fire, which burns beyond the door where no way is, which consumes the fear, purges the wrong. The fire and cloud are one and they call me and they do not care what choice or not, I have made. They call me into uncertainty – in safety. To disengage my mind from myself and to become Becomingly.
        – To become as like a little child with no respect for doors!

        Choices are not, & the rooms have made themselves,
        For my fear of shame & desire for Sameness
        Gave birth to all my rooms of choice. Yet, they are wall- less,
        Guarded by knob less doors, they spiral into my heart.

        Within that space apart, I need to make that choice
        To choose Choice Himself, to choose her unreservedly.
        To open up my heart to Love & Trust & Sacrifice.

        To dare to crawl as a child with no respect for doors
        Into the place where no wall is.

        That Place which transcends the World.

        18/10/96

        ARat.e.

  2. Pingback: Un-learning doorways – Br Andrew's Muses

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