doors and windows and what’s real

doors and windows and what’s real

By Derek Sivers

Like everyone, I live in a little house with many doors and windows.

One door goes out to my neighborhood(ˈnābərˌho͝od). The local kids come to play with my dog. The elderly(ˈeldərlē) neighbors take so long to tell me their stories. I slow down my inner clock to listen.

One window looks out at the nature around me. I’m getting to know this one tree really well. I toss(täs,tôs) a little dog food out there each day, and watch the local birds and rodents(ˈrōdnt) come by to eat it.

One door is just for my son. This door goes somewhere new every time he opens it. I pause(pôz) what I’m doing and follow him on an adventure(adˈven(t)SHər, ədˈven(t)SHər). My inner clock stops working through that door.

One door goes to my connections — the people around the world with mutual(ˈmyo͞oCHo͞oəl) interests. A dozen(ˈdəzən) people a day knock on this door and say hello. Sometimes more.

One hidden door is for my dearest(dirist) friends. That one comes all the way inside, anytime.

One skylight looks far into the future. I daydream(ˈdāˌdrēm) there a lot.

One little locket(ˈläkət) looks at the past. I daydream there, too.

But one door is really no fun to open. Whenever I do, I’m horrified(ˈhär-,ˈhôrəˌfī) at all the shouting(SHout). It’s an infinite(ˈinfənət) dark room filled with psychologically(ˌsīkəˈläjək(ə)lē) tortured(ˈtôrCHər) people, trying to get attention(əˈtenCHən). Strangers screaming(skrēm) at strangers, starting fights. Businesses put windows there, showing bad things said and done today, because they make money when people get mad(mad).

They say I’m supposed to open that door, because that’s the real world.

But it seems a lot less real than what’s in the other doors and windows in my life.

https://sivers.org/dw