Today I lug myself to my campus office with my arms full of books, papers, my purse, my lunch, and a bag dangling from my exhausted arms. Every object sits carefully balanced so one wrong move would collapse my tower of work items into a heap on the floor. I’m also wrapped up in an enormous coat, gloves, and a hat that’s slipping down my forehead. I’m also stomping down the hall in huge snow boots.
How will I ever find my office keys? How will I set even one of these things down?
I approach the office discouraged and then elated! I find my office mate has arrived before me. The door, wide open and cheerful, beckons me in with warmth and light and clear, easy access.
Such a simple thing, an open door when you weren’t expecting it and didn’t even know to hope for it! Such a small pleasure to have someone there before you, making a way for your own wild, disorganized self!
I do nothing but waltz right in.
I remember the Open Door and the Someone There Ahead of Me. I enter and drop every burden. I’m welcomed to light and warmth and ease here.