i’ve found that writing opens the door to both the soul and the world.
when i don’t write, i know i’m allowing myself to stay on the wrong side of that door. i’m choosing it. sometimes i don’t write simply because there’s just too much in there trying to get out, and the act itself seems simultaneously overwhelming and pointless. but still, i’m choosing it.
there i sit, staring at that closed door, when all i need to do is get up and turn the damn knob.
*Title trivia. I borrowed the title of this post, The Doors of Perception, from the Aldous Huxley book of the same name. Aldous borrowed it from William Blake’s poem, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, and Jim Morrison borrowed it from Aldous when he named his band, The Doors:
“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through narrow chinks of his cavern.”