One of the most distinct memories from my childhood is an unexpectedly vivid one. I spent my early school years in a house where a large glass door served as the entrance. I was never very fond of this door for some reason. I think that it is due to how exposed it made the house feel, which is somewhat ironic considering the point I am trying to make. I also once managed to get my finger stuck in it I can’t remember if it happened before or after the story I am writing about today. Either way, it doesn’t really matter.
I will try not to steer too far off course. I find that with old memories there’s always more context, and it can be hard to limit what is actually relevant. It might be due to hazy memory, or the ambiguity of how a memory is perceived. To me, memory is a fleeting feeling, something that belongs to me, but always seems just out of reach.
Either way, this morning on the way to work, a bird flew so close to the car it felt like it was mere centimeters away from being struck. I have of course seen similar behavior before, like they are pushing the limits a bit, almost testing fate. As you have probably already realized, this event reminded me of something also related to a bird. If you are extra attentive you might also understand where I am going considering how I mentioned this large glass door at the beginning. Moving forward, I will now try to paint a picture of what happened.
The way I remember it this also happened in the morning. A loud thud coming from seemingly nowhere. A slight vibration was felt, almost as if the house took a deep but staggered breath. The same type of breath you make when you try to calm yourself down, but your lungs won’t cooperate. Nevertheless, I took to looking towards the glass door, where it was quite apparent what had happened. Right there in what I remember as the center of the glass door there was a red spot, almost perfectly circular. I can not quite remember if I instantly saw, understood, or if someone else pointed it out. But the glass door was now a barrier. Us on the inside and unfortunately a small dead bird on the outside.
I can not remember if I found this scary, absurd or even morbidly amusing. But the image I have in my head is not grotesque at all, it is almost serene in a sense. The bird had obviously not seen the glass. A bird does not grasp that the trim means something is there, or that a slight reflection means danger. And even if it did, at the speed it was flying it would be too late either way. Even then, I am sure we have all seen humans making this same mistake. Walking nose first into glass doors or banging their heads on windows.
What this memory actually made me think of though, is how I always thought that the door made the house feel open, like nothing was really between us and the outside. But that morning, it became a wall. One the bird couldn’t see. And I find that intriguing because I wonder if that made me more or less fond of the door. I used to feel like the glass door made me weirdly exposed, like anyone could see inside. But then it was also the thing that stopped the bird. Did that make it a protector, or something dangerous? It is dancing between that thin line of macabre and slightly amusing, it is almost a bit whimsical in nature. I doubt I had these thoughts when it happened, I assume I felt bad for the bird, like I do now.
I also started to think about this idea in other ways. How “invisible” barriers can make you feel protected or scared, ultimately even hurt you or others. There might be a link to masking here, taking on a role or state that is not all that accurate of a reflection of how you are actually feeling. To make it less ambiguous: Acting confident when you feel unsafe does not look like anything, you are the same person. Although you may furrow your voice or frown your brows, most people around would hardly know the difference between real and fake you. Now, will this fake mask you are wearing push whatever threat you are feeling away, or will it give them the confidence to escalate with you further?
Can someone put this mask on and act so sincere that whoever is confronting them becomes the little bird? They might not crash into a glass door, instead maybe they hit a wall of doubt as they see this person stern in their stance. Maybe this person’s confidence will boost others’ confidence, or maybe it will crush it. Like when the smartest kid in class calls themselves stupid for “only” scoring 95% on the school exam.
To me this invisible barrier could be anything. It could be a state of mind, a persona. It could be an action, direct and concrete behavior. It could be nothing, an innate personal trait, an invisible barrier that just seems to be there. The glass door is fear, it is power and confidence, it is standing up for yourself and it is steering off your path due to doubt. It is taking chances, fighting for yourself and winning. It is dread, mistrust and giving up. It is there, either I like it or not. Personally I think that is for the best, I would not want to be without it.
Note: This got slightly more ambigious than I first intended, but I still found it somewhat interesting. I am therefore not gonna rewrite anything and keep it as a raw ramble.