THE CRACK IN THE DOOR
Don’t run. Don’t rush. Even if it’s the first impulse.
Even if it seems like somehow it will save your life.
The truth is, if you agree to remain, you will discover your life there—
In the midst of the mystery.
Buried in the unexpected.
The wrestling started, as it always does, at 3am. It’s not to say that the disquiet visits every night but when it comes, 3am seems to be its chosen hour.
But my body knows.
Why after all these years does it still seem such mystery that my body is aware of what’s ahead before my thinking self does? My body and I have been through hard things, lots of them, and still sometimes the magnitude of what I’ve endured catches me off guard.
This morning I arrive early and am obediently led to a small room with an impossibly large window, the remnant of a building once grand and welcoming, now carved up into spaces that seem diminutive and disproportionate to what those who sit and wait are going through.
Despite the intimacy of the situation I ask, “please leave the door open just a crack,” and my request is followed by a knowing glance.
Behind this door will be words spoken that justify my disquiet. Real words. Spoken with tenderness. Yet, unsettling all the same.
I applaud myself for even being here, for agreeing to endure what is being said. I am in awe of myself for refusing to bolt, for rejecting the impulse to scurry away through that crack in the door.
Still, I imagine familiar words floating through the narrow opening and down other halls—to rooms once occupying loved ones, where impossible news was given, where soft hands were reassuringly held.
This is when I remember that the hard teaches us to be both vulnerable and strong, when I am reminded that being wholly present is necessary to healing body, mind, and soul.
Sometimes the crack in the door is necessary to let out the anxiety that comes with showing up, with being there. But we must be there—
For the conversations that challenge and affirm who we really are.
For hard moments made easier for loved ones, when being alone is too much to bear.
For experiencing the quiet miracles that inhabit places we least expect.
Sometimes there is no place to run but to the center of ourselves—
Amid the anguish there is strength that can only be discovered there.