A Dark/Light Threshold

The unknown stands behind the door: a beginning, an ending, a contract with the devil or the proverbial bluebird of happiness, a former lover or a killer collecting toenails, an archrival or a life-size check from Publisher’s Clearinghouse.  If Monty Hall has anything to say about it there’s sure to be a woman in a banana suit and a lifetime supply of turtle wax.  We wait here, intrigued and terrified.  Turn the knob, lift the knocker, take that first step, and life hurtles into change, whether we’re ready for it or not.

I’m standing on a threshold this week.  I’ve now given my agent all the materials she needs to begin trying to sell my novel.  I am equal parts exhilarated and petrified.

But we all stand on thresholds everyday, taking the first few tentative steps into our future.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could see what comes next?  Or would it?  It’s true we’d be better prepared for the sorrow, but would it also dull our enthusiasm when something incredible occurs?  As a kid I recall finding the place where my mother hid our holiday gifts, I ruined my own surprise and regretted it immediately.  So for now I will stake my tent right here, the view ahead is murky, there may be beasts with tentacles or rooms filled with laughter, but one thing is certain.  The universe can’t say I didn’t try.

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About Madame Paradox

Heidi David is a writer and freelance producer. She is the author of an as yet unpublished novel, THE FLYING JEWEL; the tale of a traveling circus where the price of admission is one's free will.
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5 Responses to A Dark/Light Threshold

  1. ilanarose says:

    You know what? Drop the gluten free mung beans and go out and get a drink. Make it a glass of champagne. Make it two. I’ll join you. Congratulations.

  2. ilanarose says:

    Also- I had that same exact feeling when I found my mom’s gift hiding place. I felt simultaneously sad for myself and even sadder for my mom. It was the end of my childhood in an ungiftwrapped box.

    • Yes, I distinctly remember that moment too. I was at an obsessed with being a ballerina stage (you wait, perhaps Mazzy will get there too). My mother had bought a great big picture book that had some of the famous ballet stories like Giselle & Swan Lake, described in a kid friendly way with beautiful pictures. I was so let down when I realized I’d found it. And I’m pretty sure she was in the room when I started poking around and said, “If you really want to know, go ahead.” in that tone that says you’re gonna regret it. And she was correct.

  3. Pingback: Evolution, It’s Not Just For Dogs With Gas | Madame Paradox

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