Closed Doors

My children love to leave the doors to the outside open. I'm not sure if it's laziness or an overabundance of good will toward the flies, which come and feast off the crumbs on the floor. (Which, come to think of it, may be deliberately dropped by those three-year-old conspirators. Hmm.)

Sometimes, I get so aggravated that I lock the door to the backyard and tell them to knock when they want to come in. This leads to problems such as me not hearing them knocking and me feeling like the world's meanest parent because I've locked the kids out of the house. Minor details, but still a nuisance. So I try to leave the door unlocked, but closed.

Occasionally, Elijah will stand at the back door crying for me to open the door. I have to assure him that it's not locked and he can open it himself. Yet he will still give up before trying, and stand there crying until I turn the doorknob for him.

A few minutes ago, Thomas informed me that he wanted the door open. I told him that the door would remain unlocked but closed. This just sounded wrong: I think of doors as locked and closed or unlocked and open. So I thought about it some more and, being me, had to internalize the concept a bit.

Is it possible that I view life this way? Do I think that doors closed to me now are closed forever, unless some third party comes and hands me the key? Do I sit around waiting passively for somebody to open doors for me, like a toddler who is too lazy to just turn the doorknob to see? The answer, I'm sorry to say, is yes. I'm constantly waiting for some cosmic sign of what to do with my life. Unfortunately (?), God treats me like an adult. He's waiting for me to try the doorknobs myself, so no cosmic sign is headed my way soon.

Ahh, dang. I'll have to figure things out on my own.

This has me thinking about career options. I've always said I wanted to be a stay-at-home Mom and voila, I've now accomplished my life goal. Uhh, now what? If the day came when I needed (or wanted) to work, what would I do? What would I be? I have a college degree in Communications Studies, which is a blend of marketing, public relations and journalism. I think I would really enjoy marketing or public relations, but I have no real-world experience and my major only required a couple classes for each genre specifically. (It was heavy on Comms Theory, so I'd love to sit down and chat Spiral of Silence or Neil Postman with you sometime. Good old Neil Postman!)

On the other hand, I have a serious real estate fetish. Yes, I regularly check out lot prices and scope new developments for no reason at all. My latest hot spot is down in Vineyard right off Utah Lake. Some gorgeous lots right next to the walking trail, but who wants to live underneath those massive power lines? Come on, people. 

I love talking about homes with people. I think I could seriously enjoy being a real estate agent. But this line of thinking presents some major problems: nobody's buying houses right now and there are a bazillion realtors around already. Two on the same block as me (right next door and three doors down) and my brother is a realtor as well. So who in the world would ask me to help them look? It's absurd. Also, I wonder if I'd enjoy a profession that was a bit more cerebral. Could I use my analytical skills in real estate? Probably, but it seems like something more academic would be up my alley.

I've said for years I'd love to go get an MBA. I have a serious entrepreneurial streak but I hate the fact that I don't know enough about accounting or tax law or how to run a business. But an MBA would be so ... sterile. I need an outlet for my creativity. Which brings me back to marketing: it's a blend of business and creativity.

I argue around in circles, waiting for that cosmic sign. Luckily, I already have my dream job so I guess the debate can wait. And if I could choose a profession based on what I love instead of what would pay the bills, I've known that for years: I'd be a writer. I want to write a novel or two before I die, and not just a crappy novel that nobody sees. I want to write something worth publishing. I wish I could go back to school and get a Masters of English or Creative Writing or something. Maybe someday will ... if I just receive some kind of sign that it's right.