Doors are full of surprises. Doors are flexible in a funny way. You can stand on one side and pull it towards you or you can stand on the other side and push it forward. You can lock all the doors in your home and shut everybody out. You can keep the doors unlocked and open for whatever comes your way. People are like doors. There are people in this world that shut everybody out. Then there are people in this world who let whatever comes their way just come. I was the type of person who shut everybody out. Then one summer something changed and I was the type of person who let whatever comes there way just come.

I was the person who was full of fear. I was afraid of everything. I was afraid of staying, but I was afraid of going, too. I was afraid of taking chances just because I didn’t know what doors would close and what doors would open. I was basically stuck. I needed my door to be pushed or pulled.

I felt the most open when I was riding horses. I started riding before I was old enough to even understand what being stuck meant. I still think that’s why horses are my liberating factor. I went to the barn what felt like every day that summer. My horse has the wisdom I want someday. He looked at me with eyes that understood, but a mouth that never told my secrets. That summer I would ride him for an hour, but I would talk to him for hours. I knew he was listening every time I looked at his little ears bent towards my voice. It occurred to me one day that my horse always had his door open. He was my best friend and I loved him because he always had his door open to me.

This was equivalent to an epiphany for me. I never understood what it exactly was that made horses personalities different until then. I knew horses that I felt absolutely dumb talking to. That’s because their doors weren’t open. They weren’t open to me to learn from them or for them to learn from me. I made a promise to my horse that summer. I promised him I would give myself a push. If somebody hadn’t come along to do it yet then I needed to give myself a push. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, but I knew my door needed to be open for me to get there.

It occurs to me now that my horse gave me the push. He kept his door open and listened to me. He was there when I had shut everyone else out. I was there for him, too. I took care of him physically while he took care of me mentally. We had a friendship and partnership that withstood. I think we’re both there for each other because we share a completely separate door with each other.