Threshold
Leave your boots at the door.
Leave Your Boots at the Door
Leave your boots at the door.
This is the threshold, and labor is not allowed to enter here with you.
These rooms are sacred. Hold their sanctity like a shield against internal attack. You cannot wear your shoes through this door. Leave them where they belong, in another world where peace and intimacy do not live. Here is a place of quiet and closeness, and your boots do not belong.
Thresholds hold meaning. They are magic passages that move us between worlds. They carry us into rooms where masks can be dropped, where breath leaves the body in a long, heavy sigh. Thresholds mark our crossing into places where feet rest on coffee tables, where food dribbles onto shirts, where laughter fills rooms, poor manners are allowed, masks are thrown into corners with coats, and performances come to an end.
In Greek village homes, shoes are left outside. You are welcome, my friend, as you are, but your shoes are not. There will be no carrying of dirt, sweat, labor, or fields into this sanctuary. This is the home, and the threshold is strong. Across it may pass only those who love, who quarrel, who know us. Here live the slippers that shuffle across worn rugs and patterned tiles. Boots have no business entering this peace.
Boots live in fields. They thrive in fields. They carry dirt and heartache and labor when we cannot. They protect tired, weathered feet. They withstand storms. They dodge snakes in tall grass and leave their marks in mud. They know weight. They know effort. They know endurance.
Do not bring them across the threshold. There will be time enough for boots again tomorrow.
Come in… welcome to my peace. Use my slippers, clean and worn. Boots do not belong to peace or respite. They do not belong to family dinners or warm fires. They do not belong to safety, or rainy days under thick blankets. They do not belong in quiet kitchens and soft light.
They belong on the other side of the threshold.
They belong to another world. There will be time enough for that world tomorrow.
Come in, come in.
There’s something very warm and honest and magical there.
That’s lovely Eleni😀