Day 6: Doors And Windows (and why they have handles)

Of all the topics we’ve been challenged to write about so far, Doors And Windows definitely has the widest scope for individual interpretation.

Rather than bore you with an evaluation of my favourite types of wooden frames and varnishes, I thought I’d explore the symbolism of doors and windows when it comes to the barriers we put up in our daily lives and certainly the barriers I’ve put up in my own life.

Doors and windows in our homes protect us from the elements (cold, heat, wind and rain). They protect us from intruders, unwanted visitors, stray cats and dogs and even extended family members (that last one is touchy, I know, but this is no place for me to skirt around unfortunate realities). They also provide protection from the rigours of our 9-to-5’s, where we’re constantly exposed to others, whether physically or emotionally.

In all cases, these doors and windows protect.

Quite subconsciously, we do the same.

Well, at least I do.

I’ve always enjoyed being inside my own bubble, preferably alone, choosing to step out only when the coast is clear or my surroundings have been meticulously surveyed.

But lately, I’ve been letting in the air, and bar the odd exposure to a few rotten fumes, it has been largely refreshing. If you or your friends’ description of who you are tends to be ‘guarded’, you probably need some ‘rotten’ in your life too, if it means letting in something refreshingly different. I’ve always had a reliably deadpan ‘no’ – à la Miranda Priestly - to 99% of events or invitations that could be classified as spontaneous; I just didn’t see the joy in breaking free from the evening I had planned to do something that wasn’t planned. It was always as if I needed to be in the appropriate mental space for a certain social excursion and I convinced myself that this was the only real way to enjoy myself.

And then, in 2014 (now that I live closer to friends, work and where the ‘fun’ is) I began opening a few windows (that didn’t come off as corny at all, right?). It wasn’t always easy, because many of the frames had become old and rusty and impossible to dislodge – okay okay, I’ll stop now!

But seriously, I began saying yes much more often than I did before. Sometimes, I said yes through gritted teeth. Sometimes, I said no a few times but then – shock, horror – I changed my mind. I made peace with the fact that now and then, it’s okay to throw on a pair of jeans and be out of the house in seven minutes, for the benefit of feeling alive and enjoying the freedom that being (relatively) young brings.

This year, I’ve found myself in some very dingy hangout spots around the city, allowed myself to be potentially hopelessly embarrassed by speaking live on a radio station, lost track of time more than ever before and, before 2015 arrives, I’ll find myself on another continent for the very first time. It’s a special and liberating sensation to feel as though, even at an increasingly ripe 27, I’m only starting to ‘live a little’ right now. To my fellow highly-strung and cautious human beings, I say:

• Just go. You can always leave straight after you’ve arrived if you realize you’ve made an outrageous mistake.
• Open your door to visitors, even if they don’t give you enough time to clean up that revolting smudge of curry sauce on your floor (the same one that’s been haunting you for over 24 hours).
• One night of letting your hair down doesn't mean you’re going to morph into a Jersey Shore ignoramus that can’t sit still for 5 minutes without getting into trouble. In fact, you’ll appreciate those nights with your cup of Rooibos tea even more.

Doors and windows... They serve a purpose, and we all need to take care of ourselves and occasionally lock up, but never should we close ourselves up to the extent that we miss out on the little joys that life throws at us, often without any warning at all.

Put another way: use those f*cking handles!