There. That’s where she wants to go. There, exactly there. From where the birds are tweeting. From where the river sounds. Where the birds’ food lies. It is end of fall, beginning of winter. The birds are fed by kindhearted people.

She wants to go outside. Outside, where the leaves cover the ground. Thus far, she had to observe everything from inside. Through this looking glass in the wall. Never was she allowed to experience the world from close by. This glass separates her from freedom. The freedom to do what she longs to do. The freedom to waken the inner tiger.

Her goal is clear. She wants to move out. There, where the leaves are falling. Where the birds are flying. She thought about many scenarios to reach the outside. But the final, last, and impenetrable obstacle is the same in each: The glass.

One great day her servant leaves the door to the balcony open. Now nothing stands between her and the wide world anymore.

On the threshold to move out, she feels this freezing chill shivering across her back: The weather is windy and cold. More than that, the twitter is no longer dampened by the glass: It’s loud. Very loud! She is frightened and doesn’t want to move any further.

A debate starts to boil inside of her: She wanted to discover this new world; but now, she lacks the courage. The courage to transcend
the threshold.

The servant grabs her, carries her outside, and pulls the door back in its frame.

Now she’s outside. Her servant came along. At least. Only, he is at the other end of the balcony. She can’t run there just like that, not knowing whether and where there are enemies. It’s a new environment! With all these new impressions! New scents. Unknown sounds. She’s cold.

A bird flies by – she forgets her discomfort and jumps right into the middle of the floor.

There, exposed, she realizes the horrific consequences of her impulsive act: Attackable from the front and the back, from left and from right, and from the top. Crouched she observes her environment. Anxiously she’s aware of every smell, every sound, every motion. She feels humiliated. Her own servant made her to cross the threshold.

A loud car passes the house. That’s the last straw. She runs back to the door. Pulls and pushes against it. Scratches and hisses. But it doesn’t move a bit. Scared and ready to fight she turns. Leaving her back out of sight isn’t something she wants to accept.

It takes a while for her to calm down. As there wasn’t a new aggressor for a long while, she dares to move again. Still, there is a cold breeze in the air. And still, she doesn’t like her position.

It’s quiet.

Slowly, the balcony appears to be safe. She dares to walk towards her servant. Step by step she feels warmer inside, more confident. Finally, she reaches his feet, forgets her dread and starts to relax.

He grabs her, takes her back inside, and closes the door for good.

She is irritated about what is happening to her. She feels good. About the fact that she is back in her familiar surroundings. And yet, there is this itch. She wanted to discover the world!

A hot debate rises in her, once again. Does she actually want the progress she was in desperate pursuit of? Or does she prefer the view from behind the curtain?

She realizes: Any move forward – as in progress – equates with a step into the unknown. A step into the unfamiliar. Into discomfort. Only the momentary position is certain. She, however, wants to move. Wishes freedom. Standing still is out of the question. But then, she must conquer new terrain. This is what discovery boils town to. Progress and uncertainty come hand in hand.

He, whose angst towards this unknown is too big, should beware to cross the threshold – and wait inside for death to come.