Life Lessons from a Closet Door

An unexpected result of staying home for the last few months has been the growing list of minor repairs to be done around the house. While each item on the list is negligible on its own, all of the items together demonstrate a comprehensive account of reasonable wear and tear. None particularly noticeable. All glaringly obvious the longer we stay indoors.

The item at the top of our list was the replacement of the bi-fold closet doors that separate our laundry facilities from the kitchen. While not a difficult venture in theory, the opening of the closet in relation to a tall kitchen cupboard made the details a little tricky. It’s for this very reason that the original closet doors (which came with the house when we first moved in) remained broken for so long and stayed wide open, making the space look and feel cluttered.

For years, we rationalised what we would do to effect the repairs. The opening of the closet was a set width, and so each pair of the bi-fold closet doors had to be a certain width in order to fit. 

Easy enough. 

But then we had to factor in the kitchen cupboard. There was no way that a door of the required width could happily coexist with the kitchen cupboard, which is why the original doors fell into disrepair in the first place. And so, our focus shifted to the kitchen cupboard itself. We couldn’t move it, because there was nowhere else we could put it. We couldn’t decrease its width because that would render it impractical. We couldn’t get rid of it altogether because it provided crucial storage space. And so, with our focus fixed on the kitchen cupboard, the old closet doors remained broken and splayed open; mocking us relentlessly as they aired our dirty laundry.

With the extended time at home, we became determined to remedy this issue. Again, we revisited every option, and were quickly reminded why each couldn’t work.

And then something shifted.
It wasn’t the closet.
It wasn’t the cupboard.

It was our perspective.

“What if we installed one wide pair of doors and one narrow pair of doors instead of two pairs of doors of equal width?”, my husband suggested. “That way, the door closest to the cupboard will open freely.” 

Simple as that. 

After years of focusing on the kitchen cupboard because we took it for granted that the closet doors had to look a certain way in order to work, this simple shift in perspective was enough to solve our predicament easily without having to spend excessive amounts for custom work.

Within a week, we bought the closet doors, one pair wider than the other, and had them installed. 

We are amazed at how well they work! 

This had me thinking: how often do we assume that what we think we need to do or who we think we need to become is ‘right’ because of some preconceived standard? Just like the closet opening, we take certain measurements and believe them to be concrete. Measurements of success. Measurements of productivity. Measurements of influence. 

Instead of focusing on the actual space that we occupy – on the dreams, desires and ideals that we hold dear – we set our eyes on things that cannot be easily changed. Things like expectations. Things like obligations. Things like the opinions of others.

But, just like with our closet, choosing to focus on the unchangeable and measuring our standards to suit that yardstick only results in brokenness. Like those doors, when we measure ourselves by the expected rather than by what we know we need – what truly works for us in our present space – we end up failing to do the very thing for which we were purposed. Our abilities lie dormant. 

But the moment our perspective shifts from the factors over which we have no control to our own physical, mental, spiritual and emotional space, we are much better equipped to create our own solutions. Solutions that may seem unconventional. Solutions that may not be what others expected. But solutions that work perfectly for you because they cater to the space that you are in. 

When we turn away from what we “should” do and instead focus on what we know we need, we get creative. We begin to craft a life that works, not because it somehow measures up, but because it fits. It may not fit the expected, but it fits your space. Your very unique, authentic space. 

So, the next time we take a look at our list of ‘minor repairs’ – the areas of our lives that need some tender care and attention – I wonder what would happen if we shifted our focus… 
If, instead of applying society’s measure of success, we measured the desires of our heart.
If, instead of using expectation as our yardstick, we embraced authenticity as our greatest tool. 
If, instead of following the opinions of others, we listened to that still, small voice that knows exactly what we need. 

Just like those doors, I’m willing to bet that we’ll be amazed at just how well that would work.