Writing a Window

I love windows.

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I love their beauty, their simplicity, and their view. They provide protection from the cold. Their light pierces the dark. They give hope to the confined. Windows symbolize so many things to me, and they help make me whole. How I remember these windows is how I remember my past. How I feel about these windows is how I feel about my future.

 

For many, life is a bleak, passionless existence. I see lives of boredom all around me. Barriers of all kinds, real and imagined, keep people from participating in active, productive lives. Blank stares, uncreative minds, and empty hearts reflect this lack of direction and purpose.

 

Windows are miracles of glass, silica and heat.

They protect us and provide decoration in our world. They allow us to dream in safety. A window is frames what we see and limits our vision. They outline our view of the world.

 

Windows show character and variety as an individual’s personality does. Windows come in many shapes and sizes. Their diversity reflects their uniqueness. A simple, four-pained window symbolizes a simple life. Beveled glass window allow the sun to reflect through prisms creating rainbows on the floor and walls. Elements from nature produce visual kaleidoscopes.

Stained Glass Windows 

Stained-glass windows do not allow people inside a room to look outside, but they let the sunlight teach stories by reflecting images from the glass. These beautiful spectacles of art, nature, and philosophy provide inspiration hundreds of years after their construction.

 

A room with windows is a room that breathes. Windows become metaphors for transmitting images of hope, vision, and energy. They allow us to examine all aspects of our lives by focusing our attention on specific developments.

 

When windows are cloudy, dirty, or clear, they imitate confused people, unpolished individuals, or those with nothing to hide. Shaded windows prevent others from viewing inside, and people in the same way shade themselves by remaining closed to others, inhibited, and not seeing the light.

 

Where windows are placed in a building affects their appearance. Windows placed on the north side of a home receive less punishment from Mother Nature in this region. Southern windows are tortured by the sun’s rays and the strong winds from the southwest. While the north windows remain smooth and clear, the sun’s radiation on the south side forces the glass to expand and damages them.

 

Mirrors are windows coated on one side. They reflect backward what they see. Certain people are like mirrors. They reflect backward and use none of their energy to perceive the visions in front of them.

Metaphors 

If windows are metaphors for our lives, they come in all shapes and sizes: tall ones, skinny ones, short ones, some stronger than others, ones easily broken, old ones, and new ones with many different levels of tolerance.

 

Like the masks we wear during the day to conceal our feelings, window shades allow different amounts of sunlight to enter our rooms. When we are depressed, we pull down our shades. When we feel happy, our shades let in more sun.

 

If the eyes are the windows of the soul, a person’s view can be influenced by the thoughts and feelings allowed to penetrate those windows. A glass of waster may be either half full or half empty depending on a person’s point of view. Positive windows may simply be clean ones. Negative windows reflect life’s dirty smudges.

 

Windows hold anything a person’s mind imagines. “If dreams were for sale, what would you buy today?” Unlimited possibilities present themselves to some; others whose creativity is poverty-stricken limit themselves to the common. Windows for some only hold items of the past; some see only the present; a selected few reach into the future. Seeing from inside one’s heart and outward into the world is how some use their windows.

 

write worldWriting is a window for many. It allows people to see what they feel after writing words on paper that best illustrate their specific emotions.

 

“Nothing great in the world has been accomplished without passion” (Friedrich Hegel, German philosopher, 1770-1831). A wonderful quotation like this one becomes a window of wisdom that travels the ages. What a wonderful window we look through when we learn to read.

 

In an Eskimo language, the word “to make poetry” is the word “breathe.” Poetry is one of the windows important to me, and poetry allows me to breathe fresh air and see farther into my world.

 

Like pages of glimpsed clarity, a panoply of window panes, they make me aware of sunshine, the clouds, and the unlimited possibilities available in life. In my home, I built a sunroom and am surrounded by windows. I see the birds in the sky, the stars at night, and a rainbow of colors during each day.

 

Each window fine tunes my day. Each pane of glass adds increased focus to my life. An occasional cracked glass or a little dirt in the corners affects the vision I achieve out of each respective one. Each window becomes a frame of mind, a frame of hope, a window of my dreams.

 

Handshakes, books, connecting the “1,000 points of light,” five fingers turned into a fist, nets made from single strand are all windows of meaning. These images provide different cultural lenses, blazing insights through which we teach ourselves from our own life experiences. These windows of perception show the way to the other side.

 

As dogs are said to resemble their masters in looks and temperament, windows in homes reflect the personalities of the owners. A window’s appearance shows the owner’s concern, attitude, and imagination. Owner’s who take the time to keep their windows clean enhance their ability to see clearly more of the world around them.

 

One of the largest windows of my life is my work. Out of the day’s chaos, this window brings order. In an educational forest, I build a path. Confronted daily with despair, I create purpose. Surrounded by youth, I search for maturity. Enveloped by barriers, I imagine transcendence. Given yarn, I knit a sweater. Given colors, I draw a picture. To escape a death of spirit, I breathe a new beginning. Trapped by four ordinary walls, I build a picture window. As I continue to grow, the view from these windows becomes more focused.

– David Martin