The Doors of Perception, Revisited

The cost of keeping the portals always open

Photo by Ronald Cuyan on Unsplash

Let’s rally around a cliché: Success and failure are flip sides of the same coin. It’s nearly impossible to court success without also courting failure.

Recently, I had reason to nudge this cliché in a slightly different direction, and suddenly I understood both “states” a little better, especially as to how they function in a writer’s life or that of any creative person.

It’s helpful to envision a single doorway—any size or style that catches your fancy. This doorway opens and closes at all hours of the day, sometimes under your direction, sometimes not.

Success walks in through that doorway. So does Failure. Sometimes they enter shoulder-to-shoulder at the same moment or on the same day. Sometimes one visits frequently while the other stays away, and then they switch places so abruptly you don’t have time to put the kettle on.

You never know which of them will walk through that doorway to greet you, or when. All you know is that you can expect either, or both, whenever the universe decides it’s time.

Now, suppose you’re growing tired of all this coming-and-going. It’s unsettling. Perhaps also exhausting. So you shut the door and bolt it. Which means, you’ve effectively barred Success from paying a visit. Because you can’t shut out the one you might welcome (aka Success) without also shutting out the one you don’t want (Failure, Rejection, Beelzebub, Vampires).

So now you’re a creative recluse, courting stasis and isolation. This is fine for a while if you’re deep into making your art. But at some point, if you don’t unbolt that door, you’ll lose out on the opportunity to share yourself with the world—to communicate and connect, and isn’t that why you’re writing or making art in the first place?

There comes a point where if you’re afraid to fail, then you’re also afraid to succeed. This is a package deal. You can’t realistically invite Success inside and keep Failure waiting out on the stoop. It just doesn’t work that way.

I find the one-door metaphor to be a powerful reminder about the reality of getting our art into the world. We don’t do that without incurring pain along the way. But that pain is the necessary price we pay if we’re going to keep that door open.

We don’t get to dictate who enters—whether Success or Failure on any given day. Which means holding ourselves (and the door) open to either, at all times.

Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash

I’m coming off a long period where Failure was an all-too-frequent visitor who over-stayed their welcome and drank all my wine, while Success only decided to pop in every so often and always left before we were through laughing together.

This is a situation of my own making, as I’ve kept that door wide open, never locking it, never hanging a No Trespassing sign. So I had to expect visitors at all hours.

Finally, one day, entirely unexpectedly, Success burst in before I’d had my morning coffee. A publisher offered me a contract for a novel I had despaired of selling for nearly two years, which was one reason Failure had been making deep dents in my couch cushions.

Now more than ever, I embrace the lesson: I had to let Failure in countless times. I had to submit my work as if I were issuing a personal E-vite to Failure. Because had I not done that, had I barred the door to keep my unwelcomed guest at bay, then neither could Success have visited me on that recent morning.

Life is bittersweet and through that doorway, disappointment and elation will both enter. Be a good host—to both.

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WRANGLING THE DOUBT MONSTER: FIGHTING FEARS, FINDING INSPIRATION.

Read it. You’ll find a line that speaks to you. I promise.

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