One day when my memories came up in Google photos (thank God my memories are somewhere!), I saw a picture of a castle window wherein the photo-taker (me) stood back a bit and could look out to a beautiful vista from “afar” – as if it were a painting instead of a window – and it started my brain moving. When we’re looking out our internal windows (eyes/self), what do we see? Beauty or malice? What do we feel? Fear? Excitement? Indifference? Does this define some of who we are?
What size is the window your soul looks through? Is it large enough to get through easily, or is it too small to climb through? Does it cause you to catch your breath in anticipation and excitement or in claustrophobia (tight spaces) or agoraphobia (can’t leave your house)? Do you lean on the sill of your mental window to see as much as possible, or are you so uncomfortable or afraid that you can’t even get near the window? Is your window a window of possibilities? Or the “light at the end of the tunnel”? Or is it a window with a terrifying plague trying to get in?
When I looked out that castle window while visiting Scotland, I wanted to get closer, to see everything I could see; vistas, mountains in the distance one way and the ocean the other way, people below, the history that permeated the castle – I wanted it all. I wanted to fill my soul with the beautiful landscapes, to walk the vistas of mountains and rivers, of ancient buildings, rich history and to meet all the new people I could along the way.
Of course, history has a great deal of violence and treachery, and when you’re walking through castles like Holyrood or prisons like Alcatraz and listening to an historical account of the bloody murders or riots being played out from a hand-held tape, it makes you look at these marvelous castles and landscapes differently. Any peaceful field could contain the essence of the bloodshed of past years, and the romance of a castle is an illusion in terms of their original purposes. They were a status of power – usually built by the downtrodden – a fortress against enemies that had prisons for foes and sometimes even friends, if they wanted to take the throne, or lands, or whatever from the owner.
But honestly, back to the windows (sheesh – such tangents I get myself into – next week’s blog is a whole other blog because I got on a longer tangent with this blog, lol). There have been plenty of times when I did not want to get too close to “windows” of unknown or of bloody history (like when we went through the historical center – and the field – for the battle at Culloden). I've avoided "windows" that have a wall across from them, and internal “windows” of strangers approaching me, potentially eager to get something from me– “Danger, danger, Will Robinson!” Boundaries are helpful at times. Even for robots.
I’d feel it was sad if I never got excited about seeing something new, something fresh, something different. Even when we get older, we can be excited. We may not be able to do more than watch it on a phone or TV screen or, if in person, watch from the sidelines or the prementioned window. But let’s try and come closer to our internal windows, to give life a chance to open our perspectives, to shower us with gifts of knowledge, wonder and joy. But be sure not to fall or jump out of your window in fear or anger. Wait until you’ve edged yourself forward and you’re ready to fly. Then go be free.
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