The distance of a few inches remains a distance to travel. Fear and exhaustion can grow large there. Do you die with your hand on the doorknob or do you make it through the door? It is unknown.
You have made it so far; all the way essentially. Surely you will cross those few inches in one bound. But yet, it remains unknown.The distance itself remains. Staring you in the face. A reality of almost. It could represent a mockery or encouragement – almost there! Almost there. And so to keep going. Despite the unknown. Playing roulette. You could get shot while turning that knob. That is a true possibility. And yet, to keep going. It is exhaustive!
But if you stop before the door and say, enough; is that a death? Or a salvation? Are they one in the same. The most brilliant person, I believe, would say, “My needs are simple. My wants are simple. I know I will get there.” Thus they are already there because of the knowing. Clear and simple.
And yet, isn’t that dark and tangled path somehow not to be missed? The tangled depths of our souls seeking to be unknotted and perceived wholly for what they are, inch by inch. And so to keep going. Inch by treacherous inch.