Portals of Possibility: This Door's For You

Slowing your body and mind one step at a time.

The other day, a friend and I discussed stress management strategies. She used to run but realized it was exacerbating her anxiety and transitioned to walking. It was a game-changer. Slowing down her body slowed her mind.

Her walking time became thinking time, and she processed her feelings as she moved. She sometimes listens to podcasts or music but often wears earbuds while playing nothing to create a bubble of solitude.

Walking is a familiar form of therapy for me. I'm a thinker and an observer of the world. When I walk, I notice things on familiar streets I haven’t seen before. I take photos of what piques my curiosity and save them in my camera roll so I can look them up later.

I asked my friend, "What do you notice on your walks?" A long silence followed. She hadn't really thought about what she was looking at. First, she said houses. I assumed that was because she had a great sense of style and was taking note of the architecture or decor. But that wasn't it. She came to the realization that it wasn't the houses she was drawn to, it was their doors. Being drawn to doors felt significant to us both.

We can think of our lives as a series of pathways leading us to new doorways representing opportunities, challenges, and decisions. We open some and embark on new adventures. Or, we walk through one only for it to lead nowhere—or for us to be kicked back out. Each entryway we encounter represents new possibilities—chances to learn, grow, and make choices that shape our lives. 

My friend is at a crossroads. For years, she has been navigating infertility and opening doors that have led to empty rooms. She faces big decisions about which ones to open, which rooms to sit in, and what door she might have to close. 

After our conversation, I scrolled through my camera roll. I was reminded that it’s not just my friend who is captivated by doors, I too photograph them for their beauty and often wonder what stories they tell. Here are some I've encountered and why I captured them.

I was fascinated by what appeared to be an antique door on the Upper East Side. My hunch was that the building was old, and the door was original. I looked up the address and learned the building was built in 1920. If I had to guess, the door is likely original. The building holds a dark history. In January 1940, a former Princeton professor and scientist was found dead in the bathtub of his apartment, a suicide note nearby.

This pedestrian entrance to a now-defunct airport hangar at Floyd Bennett Field was once part of New York’s first commercial airport—and the second-busiest airport in the US (behind Oakland, CA). It operated from 1931 to 1939 when La Guardia Airport, closer to Manhattan, opened and became New York's aviation hub.

While bike riding on the North Fork of Long Island this summer, I came across a whimsical scene: a unicorn peeking out of big barn doors.

I photographed these doors (located at 49 East 76th Street next to the Carlyle Hotel) because I loved the monochrome appearance.

I came across this door on the Lower East Side in 2010. Jim Joe is a graffiti writer whose signature scribble was ubiquitous then and still prevalent in the city.

On a recent flight, I noticed a flip-down ashtray was embedded into the restroom door. It made me a little nervous… how OLD was this plane?

If you're searching for the right door—to build your family, find your career, or whatever else you'd like to manifest—I hope it presents itself.

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Words of the Week:

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us.”

— Helen Keller

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Photo of the Week:

Photo by Michael De Feo.

The above is a sculpture of a door by Jay Heikes that is currently on view at Marianne Boesky Gallery in Chelsea, NY. The art installation is cut into the gallery wall and backlit by bright light peeking through the cracks. Entitled Where the Monks Dance (2023–2024), Heikes creates a door to nowhere that only your imagination can take you through. The gallery’s press release describes the door as “an enchanting, seductive symbol: an illuminated passageway that is never accessible and never knowable.” 

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NYC Marathon Fundraising

I'll be running the NYC marathon this November in support of Resolve.org. With two months to go, I’ve raised over $1100 of my $3500 goal! THANK YOU all who have donated—and extra thanks to those who have shared stories with me.

If you believe in making family-building more accessible, please consider contributing or sharing my page with your network. Anything—a social media post or a $5 donation helps!

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