When is a door not a door? When it’s ajar, of course.
I value relationships above most everything else. When I’m alone and I feel down I want ice cream. But the rest of the time relationships are my top priority.
My relationships with God, family members, friends, neighbors, etc. are the axis of much of my conscious thought.
Most great literature throughout the ages developed from one being’s relationship with other beings. Entire religious systems stem from the desire for relationship with one’s creator, higher power, diety – God. Evidently I am not that unique.
I believe relationships are a doorway to meaningful life, like a wonderful dance production illustrating intertwining stories to a universal orchestra. Relationships also complicate, confound and sometimes impair human life. Sometimes the world seems to spin out of orbit; such times we want to slam our door shut, close ourselves off and retreat from humankind. When we actually attempt that, the earth continues to turn, the music usually continues, but our dance pauses.
Though an occasional retreat with the door closed is good, life is best when the door is ajar.
Some of us grow up with more (or less) pain, trauma, distress, severe or prolonged illness or any-of-the-above.
We navigate life with a little more dis-ease, dis-sociation, dis-ability, dis-functionality, etc. than others. I like to think of those of us that survived some hits and bear a snag or two in our leotards as Dis-cos.
Like everyone else, my life has been an ongoing story full of varying interdynamics, and I appreciate most of them better in hindsight. Like all those lovely vegetable gardens we toil over from mid-spring, summer and into autumn. Some of our buds don’t get exactly the same sun/shade ratios, water and food as others; some get bugs and birds peck and carry our fruit away. Still, plants continue growing, and ultimately our gardens nourish and delight the world. Okay, they help feed our households and some neighbors at the very least.
For many years I preserved the best of my crops in glass jars.
If people were vegetables, being canned in a jar, we are preserved and nicely displayed, all neat and tidy. Any bad elements that can potentially make us toxic are sealed out. We sit, pretty to see; perfect – unless a bacteria inside survives: pressure builds, the lid bulges, and eventually the seal breaks. If our jars sit too long colors and nutrients fade.
How we live, how we develop and grow with our dis-eases, with whatever degree they enable or disable us, when or at what seasons they affect us, they can eventually affect our relationships with others. In my life so far I worked my garden; watering, feeding, weeding, etc. Then harvesting, cleaning, planning, combining, cooking, jarring, sealing and boiling it all up, I then display the jars.
I learned when a lid doesn’t seal right the contents of the jar can make life painful and frightening. Typically I inspect my jars carefully and empty ones that didn’t sing out the “pop,” seal perfectly with the rest of the ensemble. When caught right away those jars can nourish as well before poisons develop inside.
I am passionate about sharing experiences and hearing new stories about people’s doors and their jars. I welcome fellow Dis-cos and all to come share their stories – and dance!