Holding the Door

Holding the Door

If you haven’t held the door open

for someone lately, try it today

at the dentist’s office, the bank,

or the gas station where some impulse

pulls your gaze upward to meet

the eyes of a stranger with a smile.

The small fire of that single gesture

will stay kindled in you for hours,

and soon you’ll be finding other doors

inside yourself, admitting the pleasure

of sending a letter to a friend, creamy

white envelope like an invitation,

raising the hand of the little red flag

on the mailbox. Or pausing to hear

the mating calls of two barred owls

hooting to each other before dusk

in a neighbor’s yard while you stand

on a gravel road sinking in the mud

of early spring. Suddenly, you notice

doors everywhere in need of opening,

and you know this is your new job,

welcoming whomever, whatever

passes through.


One of the most common forms of kindness people recall is a stranger holding the door open for them. Somehow, this brief but no less generous act touches a part of us awake. Perhaps it is the symbolism involved in someone allowing us to enter before them, saying: You are just as important as I am. Or as we leave a place, we take it as a blessing that sends us on our way, someone saying: You first. Either way, this small acknowledgment affirms that we are not as invisible as we can sometimes feel. A fellow human has noticed us here, and has chosen to bear the slight burden of this door before us. Even now, I hold these moments of compassionate contact with the world, recalling the eyes of the woman at the gas station, the father and son entering the library. I love this practice because it requires so little of us, yet can have a profound effect on both the giver and receiver. And always afterward, I feel other doors opening, as I begin searching for other tiny kindnesses I might offer to the world, and myself. If we agreed to do this even once a week for the rest of our lives, imagine all the anonymous hearts we will have lightened, whether or not they thanked us or looked us in the eyes. We all crave this kind of reciprocity, but many of us do not recognize such instances as gifts; it is often not until later that the kindness someone imprinted on us rises up in our awareness again. Oh, we say to ourselves then, remembering and embodying the act so we don’t forget what’s possible each time we step through a new threshold, welcoming others who may have forgotten they too belong.


Invitation for Writing & Reflection: As you move through the next few days, see if some instances arise in which you might hold open the door for another, especially a stranger. How does this open other thresholds of possibility inside you? What is so tender and inviting about this practice? You might write an “advice poem” like this one, encouraging yourself (and others) to engage in some random act of loving kindness this week.


If you enjoy these free weekly emails, please consider making a donation here, or become a supporting member by upgrading below.

Dear friends, in less than a month, I’ll be offering a weekend retreat at the amazing Kripalu Center in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Included with this retreat are yoga classes each day, nourishing and wonderful meals, and time to write and explore together in generative sessions. I hope you’ll consider joining me for this special spring weekend from April 3-5th:

https://kripalu.org/experiences/love-all-us-writing-self-compassion