We are born. This is the first step, the first door that opens (yes, I just referenced a vagina to a door). Once we are in the light, screaming and miserable, and cold, this is the pivotal moment of how many doors will be open versus closed. We didn’t ask for this Monster’s Inc. theory of life.
My dad used to give me this talk endless amounts of times, but I did not just close a door, I slammed it. I used to imagine these doors that were open for me were some sort of godsend, bright, typically an ocean view. But somehow I just kept closing them, without my knowledge. When we are teens the most satisfying feeling is to slam a door, lay face down on the bed, and count how many doors we probably just locked up with that fight.
For my future little monsters (not gaga style), I want to think of a different alliteration, one that if it’s not actually applicable to their life, it’s at least humourous. One of my favorites was from my high school lacrosse coach, it was simple- if you step in shit, you’re going to smell like shit.
More photos and stories to come, but a theory I had been pondering over night.