I used to have a term for people who I seemed to feel had a potentially important part to play in my life, if I chose to interact with them. I called them “doorway people.” It was pretty easy to recognize such people, it was some sort of soul recognition, something that made the person more realistic than other people.
There may be some psychiatric disorder for feeling some people are more “real” than others, but I am not referring to a lack of reality among the general population, I am merely saying that some people seem “more” real because they are someone seen as having more potential of relevance in one’s own life. I don’t know what kind of eye sees this. But it sees a kind of kinetic energy stored up in that person which is meant to be unleashed in your life. More “real” may be a rather biased way of thinking of people, but, as it is the kind of term that is only used inside one’s own mind, it seems ok.
There was at least one occasion many years ago when, after recognizing a doorway person, I did not follow up on the presence. It was a young woman in college in Boston. She was nice to me, but I did not involve her in my life, even though I knew that she could be, or was supposed to be, a player of some kind in my life. I was rather angry at existence at the time and I was snubbing it when it presented such situations to me. Would I have learned something good and valuable from the person if I had interacted? Perhaps, but at the time I was asserting my self by shoving away whatever creation was presenting me. People, and food too if my recollection about when I was underweight is correct – I was actively resisting a great deal.
The only people I let in at that time were people who felt intimately on the same path as myself (though I wouldn’t have used that term “path” back then since I wouldn’t know what I meant). I disregarded the “doorway people” whose lives were different than mine, ignored whatever biographical changes they would have prompted in me (and me in theirs).
But I would accept the rare connection with someone who was so clearly near my soul path that I’d trip over them. I knew one such girl in college, and I still remember her name vividly now even though I sometimes forget the names of others, or remember only their first names.
So, in review, I identified two kinds of people – “doorway people” whose lives were meant to interact with mine but were presented as opportunities only, and whom I could resist if I felt like it. And another, even more rare kind of people, who were on or near my own soul path whom I couldn’t ignore. I don’t have a name for them, but, they’re important.
It is years later now, and so I am wondering if there are still these two sets of people.
The ones on the same soul path as I’d described, the ones who I don’t have a name for? They’re still out there. Not always in one’s direct path, I’ve discovered. Rarely, I have a moment of instant recognition that almost draws me to extrovertism. On occasion I will see someone who I don’t even know, perhaps even just a glance in my rearview mirror at someone crossing a street behind me, and I am filled with a tremendous sense that I know something about that person’s heart, possibly something about their spiritual ancestry, something about their incarnation here now which makes me want to run up to them and say “hi, I recognize you and I know what you feel!” but I don’t. Or I haven’t, anyway. So I still recognize some people as particular in some way. But those intense moments are exceptionally rare, in fact I can think of only one that was exactly like that, and another which took some days for me to realize. These people tend to be lifelines. I think they’re supposed to be friends, though I’ve certainly tried to make them lovers, maybe because of the intensity of familiarity makes one want to “regroup” with them in literal terms.
But as for the “doorway people,” I maybe don’t get the same vivid sense of “doorway people” anymore. Or maybe it is more that I see that there are many more of them than I ever expected, which has made it impossible to label them as a minority of sorts.
Then again, supporting the notion that there are still “doorway people,” there are still plenty of people who are blank to me, just people going about their business, whose lives won’t interact with mine, and that is fine and logical and it is actually quite neccesary that we don’t know them all, since there’s more than 7 billion of them. I can’t say that I see everyone as possibly being important in my life. I am still limited. I still see some people as less relevant.
I’m not actively pushing away people whose bios could intermix with my own (with some momentary flashbacks, though), but I am not on the street embracing strangers either. I tend to look for people who are a little bit recognizable and I still shy away from the rest. I suppose these are the “doorway people”, and the fact that they’re less distinct is simply an improvement in how more open I am (while by the same token the fact that I still see some people as irrelevant shows how closed I am).
So these people who I am no longer calling “doorway people” are folks who I don’t immediately recognize, but who for some reason have some kind of power which seems a little bit familiar, but are also plenty unfamiliar.
My friend Kettie is one of these latter people. I saw something familiar in her eyes even in her photo. And in meeting her, I could feel something there which was quite intense. I wasn’t pushing it away this time, even though I also knew it wasn’t an immediate recognition – not one of those exceptionally rare instant recognitions. She didn’t have the same spiritual ancestry as me, nor was her path in this life the same as mine. But there was something about her and her life which seemed to have something in store for my life and mine for hers, much like the “doorway people” from long ago, whose presence in my biography would have some sort of deep meaning, and mine in theirs I suppose (not sure), if I let the complementary relationship play out.
This person was was someone I didn’t know, something that would need to be worked on, possible for some time, perhaps even some years, to even be able to appreciate what the meaning or relevance of her was. And I started to work on that.
At some point, a few weeks in to it, I resisted again, like I’d resisted people and food years ago. This wasn’t a person from my same soul group or whatever those instant-recognition folks were, and I think I got angry again about reality, as I had been years ago.
“Why are people so complicated?” “Why is communication so difficult?” “Why are people, by their very natures, a mixture of compatibilities and incompatibilities?” Sometimes life seems like a process of rolling and churning against each other until everybody’s incompatibilities and compatibilities eventually are worn smooth. It sometimes seems to me to be such an unfair, long process. Can’t we all be smooth now, shiny now? People’s differences are like nubs, abrasive. But that’s also what gives us uniqueness – they’re our life stories (present incarnation only). Challenging to say the least. I think I am still a bit upset at having to go through this again, because, quite simply, it isn’t easy.
But I have to give myself some credit for actually having tried, or been trying, to get to know the person even though this wasn’t a person who was on the exact same path as me, who wasn’t an immediate recognition.
In Kettie I saw a person with a different life story than mine, but with some hints of recognition of some purpose for her being in my life and mine in hers. And I also saw that we were different people, and that some of our differences would be problems (and I am speaking here of general perspectives) – but I viewed these problems this time as not something to reject simply because of the complexity of it.