Barn doors always speak to me of choices, comings and goings, decisions and paths. More and more, I think, the choice we are confronted with is security versus a mythical life, safety versus the risk of choosing a meaningful life rather than a safe one. Every day, I meet members of my tribe, people who who have considered their lives and taken the plunge, stepped off their own fiscal cliffs and plunged into the real of awakening and discovery.

To be comfortable or to be authentic was my choice, and I could not take it back even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. Barn doors are gateways from one world to the other, and this one, in Pawnal, Vt., has seen a lot of openings and closings, and I caught it in the late afternoon sun. Barn doors don’t open much anymore, but they still speak.