The room I use as an office is a large conference room where 3/4 of the walls are large glass windows. We have curtains for the times where it feels as though we work in a fishbowl, and on any given window, curtains are up, down, half/half, or resting on the floor. And, of course, if it were not for a small silver door handle, on most days, one would think there to be no door at the entrance of this particular room. Clean, clear door. Thus, the following moment…
A few weeks ago, I was headed back to the office after lunch, pep in my step, and mentally preparing to take on some afternoon emails and other project details. Just as I turned the corner to enter the conference room, I experienced a jolting halt. Before I knew it, my glasses were on the floor and I was crouched down holding the top of my head. Had I been attacked? Did someone just hit me with a baseball bat? Was I bleeding?
No, to all aforementioned inquiries. I had just run right into the glass door.
Alas, humility via glass door.
Let’s pause here for a moment to honor all those who have ever walked face-first into a glass door. It happens, it hurts, and it’s super humbling. And no matter how sober or confident or charming you are attempting to appear, running into a glass door will always feel slightly more embarrassing than physically painful. And the added truth, not all glass doors are in the physical sense. The idea of a “glass door” goes beyond a possible bump on the head, and exists as a myriad of other life blunders.
This is life, right? Life is messy, and sometimes you think you have a total plan, yet life provides an undesired interruption. Dissonance. Crash. A glass door.
Some glass doors are deep and raw, and are more than just a bump on the head – they exist as as shattering moments, the loss of friends and family members, the loss of a job, the loss of a dream a hope, a plan, and the list goes on and on. But for the most part, the general life glass door really does just give us a bump on the head and an embarrassing story to laugh about days (sometimes years) down the road. And we embrace that reality, and we move on.
What is your glass door today? What sight or goal or dream or wish do you see so incredibly clear, yet are possibly missing the silver handle glaring right at you? This silver handle represents the ongoing temptation to pause, to reflect, to redirect. At times, it simply takes looking up and being present. Other times, it requires thorough and thoughtful planning and processing. And in rare moments, it encompasses a sensitive amount of grieving. Allow yourself to grieve, allow yourself to process. And always, be present.
Never forget the glass door, typically introduced as clean and clear. And, of course, always remember the glass door will creep up on you, catching you off-guard and unprepared. Never forget the life moment as it relates to the glass door, one which isn’t always clean or clear. And as we sift through the realities of our day-to-day, with hopes and dreams in mind, I hope you find clean and clear in your own way. I hope you process, and grieve, and find yourself still.
Are you patient enough? Are you eager enough? Are you aware?