‘Beyond the Safety of a Closed Door’

Here's a little fable I cobbled together as I ponder this powerful little concept of the Door, the Frame and the Light.

In the heart of a bustling city, there lived a solitary soul named Elliot. For years, he had barricaded himself behind the closed door of his apartment, his sanctuary from the chaos and uncertainty of the outside world. The door, a symbol of safety and solitude, stood as a barrier to the connections and relationships he had longed-for but long denied himself.

Inside, the room was lit by the harsh glow of false, fluorescent light, a stark contrast to the warmth and possibility that lay just beyond the closed door. Elliot found solace in the quiet hum of loneliness, his only companions the shadows that danced across the walls and the comforting items he had spent years furnishing the room with. Yet, deep down, he yearned for something more, a sense of belonging and connection that had eluded him for so long.

Elliot, like so many others, believed that he needed to step out into the world to find the freedom and opportunity he craved. He yearned to break free from the confines of the room, to chase his dreams in the limitlessness beyond the threshold of the door frame. Yet, time and again, he found himself hesitating, his feet rooted to the familiar ground, his hand lingering on the handle, unable to turn it and step into the unknown and chase after the fleeting promises of success and happiness that seemed to taunt him from the other side of the safe, solid door. Afterall, he had been conditioned to believe the world was his oyster – it was up to him to go out and seek fulfilment in the world that sat outside of his own.

One day, as Elliot sat alone in his quiet apartment, he noticed a patch of sunlight streaming in through the gap below his door. He stared at the sunlight and marveled at how it seemed so much more natural, intense, warm and nourishing than the shaded light projecting down from the ceiling, which he was so used to living under.

There was a gentle knock at the door that echoed through the silence, drawing him from his thoughts, as it had a thousand times before. He approached the closed door, his hand trembling as he reached out to grasp the handle. This time, however, as his hand drew nearer to the handle the shaking eased as he felt a relief, a sense his actions didn’t have to feel so difficult and heavy; that opening the door required less ‘work’ than stepping through it. That all he had to do was open the door.

As he did so, Elliot noticed the power of this simple action. It was he who was revealing the warm glow of light that spilled into his once-shadowed sanctuary. Standing before him were faces, familiar and unfamiliar alike, their smiles a beacon of hope and possibility beaming into the darkness. And further out many more faces went about their day without even a glance toward Elliot; these faces seemingly content and intent on their own lives.

In that moment, Elliot realized that he didn't need to step out into the world to find happiness, nor to fear it; he just needed to open the door and let others into his life – gradually, at his own pace and in his own time. With each new connection he forged, he felt the weight of loneliness begin to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that he had long yearned for – a sense that in fact he had always belonged because this was ‘his place’.

And as he welcomed the world into his once-isolated existence, Elliot discovered that true fulfilment came not from chasing after distant dreams or bold actions, but from embracing the connections, opportunities and relationships that had been waiting for him all along and that continually refresh and evolve, just beyond the closed door.

In a future edition I'll unpack the model of the 'The Door, The Frame & The Light' in the context of our new friend Elliot. But for now, perhaps consider where, how and why some of his story relates to some areas of your life - be that work, home, family, career or community.

Sending you light and love,

Callum