In the middle of the hallway there stood another door. It was more of a doorway, nailed roughly into the floor in the center of the hall. A modest door hung on three hinges.
A sign above the door read "Enlightenment." I walked around the door and on the other side it looked the same. The same single word was painted on both sides of the sign.
I looked back at the other doors, each one representing a choice of an afterlife and one a way back to the reality of Earth, but this door stood alone in the hall.
I studied the door and looked for meaning in it. I ran my hands over the wood frame, but it was just standard two by four whitewood, the cheapest available. I examined the nails. They were all hand driven, but standard eight or ten penny nails. The hinges were cheap brass, fastened with screws, some at an awkward angle as if the individual who hung the door was not very experienced and had to hang the door alone in the frame. It wasn't a bad job, just not the work of an experienced carpenter. The door was very inexpensive. Just hollow core fiber board painted white, the cheapest available at a home improvement store. The knob was also cheap brass, with no locking mechanism.
The sign above the door was hand painted, and not very well. The spacing was not carefully planned, so the n and the t at the end of "Enlightenment." were a little squished together. The period at the end of the word was drippy, as if the sign was hung before the paint was dry; as if the painter were in a rush, or perhaps not so concerned with the final product.
I tried to imagine who would put this sort of a door together. I determined it must be made by a novice human. The other doors were so ornate and complex and unique that they had to be made by master craftsmen from this world or the next. This door was cobbled together from items on hand. No time was spent trying to get the best wood available. No painstaking carvings or lavish painting decorated this door.
The knob did not even have a lock on it. All the other doors had ornate locks or were heavily padlocked. Why did this door not have a lock? I had the ring of keys in my hand, but there was no need for a key. I searched the key ring anyway. I counted all the doors and all the keys. There was one key short. There was no key for the door to Enlightenment.
I put my hand on the knob of the door to Enlightenment. I expected some magic to happen, some major force to overtake me and shake me up. Nothing happened. I opened the door and peered through, expecting something more to be beyond. There was only a view to the end of the hallway. I left the door open and walked around the frame. There was absolutely nothing special about the door. I was confounded.
"Choose your door wisely," a voice said. I looked around me, up and down the hallway. I was alone.
"Choose your door wisely," the voice repeated. The voice was in my own head. It was not threatening or commanding, just there. Speaking only to me.
"I am afraid," I said. "I am afraid I will choose the wrong door. I am afraid of what will happen to me."
"Choose your door wisely," the voice repeated.
I looked again at all the doors along the hallway. I weighed the pros and cons of each one. I went over and over in my mind all the possible outcomes of choosing each door. I again opened each door and gazed through to what afterlife lay beyond. I lingered longest at the door that seemed to return the way I had come, back to Earth. I did not cross the threshold, but peered in as far as I could see. I spent days deciding, weeks even. I was not hungry. I was not tired. I did not want for anything. Yet still I could not decide. I began to think that I might be destined to spend eternity in the hallway, pondering each opportunity without ever taking action. I saw each opportunity for the afterlife and they all looked inviting, all looked interesting. I could not pick just one.
I made my way back to the door of Enlightenment. I opened it again and peered through it.
"Choose your door wisely," the voice repeated.
I drew in a deep breath and walked through the door, crossing the threshold. Nothing happened. I passed through and looked back through where I had come from. I closed and opened the door from both sides. I opened the door quickly to catch something that might appear on the other side. I slid up next to the door jamb and peered through the crack I made as I slowly opened the door. Only the hallway was there. There was nothing special about this door. So why was it here? What was it doing in the middle of such an important hallway?
"Choose your door wisely," the voice repeated.
"I just did choose my door," I said. I walked through the door again, in the same direction. "I choose the door to Enlightenment." Nothing happened.
"Choose your door wisely," the voice repeated.
"I did choose the door, I chose this door, the door to enlightenment," I said, irritated. I walked through the door again, back the way I had come. I had spent weeks deciding. I finally decided, and now I still had to choose?
"What else am I supposed to do here? Why am I trapped here? I chose my door, now what am I supposed to do?"
"Choose your door wisely."
I paced up and down the hallway. I went in and out of the door to Enlightenment repeatedly. I opened the door then slammed it hard. I slammed the door over and over again. I was still not getting through. I was getting through the door, but I wasn't getting through to the force behind the door. Or the force behind the door was not getting through to me.
I sat crosslegged in front of the door and stared at it. I must have spent days like that, trying to understand what the door could mean, what it all could mean, why I was stuck in this hallway, waiting to choose an afterlife. And why was I alone? Why was the door to Enlightenment alone as well?
Are we alone? Are we all alone, in the end? We come to Earth alone, but surrounded by people. We leave the Earth alone, again potentially surrounded by people who loved us when we were alive. Are we destined to make our decision for how to live the afterlife alone as well?
All I could gather from the door was that it was here. The door was here. And though I wasn't sure for certain, it seemed to be here for a reason. For a reason. This time, this place, for a reason. I was here, this time, this place for a reason as well. That was all I had at the end of my pondering.
The door was here. The door was present. I was here. I was present. The door was in the present. I was in the present. And that was all I had.
That was all I needed.
Here.
Now.
And now I understood. The door had given me all it had. All its presence. The present was all I had, all the door had. And that was the door's gift to me. To show me that the present moment is all we have. All we ever will have. What is present right now are the only things that are real. Everything else is an illusion.
I stood up and walked to the door again. I reached out my hand and touched the knob. It was cold. I turned the knob and felt the latch engage then release the door. I pulled the door open slowly and felt the soft friction of the new hinges. I heard a small squeak as the door was opening. I let go of the handle and felt the latch spring back into place. The door continued to open a bit after I released it, then came to a stop. I stood there looking at the open door, completely present, completely at peace, completely at one with the door and the hallway and all of my life and the potential afterlife. I felt the energy in my body, quivering with the strength of my spirit, the power of my breath. I moved my leg upward and placed my foot on the threshold. I moved my other leg upward and stepped through the door. Nothing happened.
Except I happened. I was presence. I was energy. I was experience. I was now. I was here, and I would always be here, always be present. I looked up at the ceiling and breathed deeply.
"Choose your door wisely," the voice said.
"I will," I replied.
I ran to the door which led back to Earth, back to reality. I whipped through the key ring and found the standard house key. I unlocked the door to Earth and opened it. Through the door I could see it was a glorious day, and it was just beginning. I knew what I had to do. I had to go back to Earth and live in the present moment. I had to be in the now as often as possible.
I turned back to the door to Enlightenment. I laughed aloud and ran to it. I pulled it open and kicked at the hinges. I kicked and pulled and tore the door off the hinges and threw it down the hallway. I went to the end of the hallway and lined myself up so I could see the door to Earth through the doorway to Enlightenment. I framed the door to Earth in the doorway to Enlightenment. It all looked the same. But I was not the same, and never would be again. I ran. I ran like the wind. I passed through the doorway to enlightenment and jumped through the door back to the reality of Earth, soaring with the eagles, armed with the power of presence. The Power of Now.
It has to start someplace
It has to start sometime
What better place than here?
What better time than now?
-Rage Against the Machine
