Front Door Stories

It is solved by walking.

I know this can’t be true for all problems in life, but I’m a huge believer in the therapy of going out for a walk. When I’m grappling with a dilemma, having a bad day, feeling sad or just have cabin fever, the simple act of stopping what I’m doing and leaving the house to put one foot in front of the other is symbolic for stepping out of my rut and looking at things from a new perspective. 

For the last three years I have lived in the beautiful Swiss town of Nyon, and walking the streets here has been one of my biggest pleasures. Surrounded on all sides by farmland and vineyards, the Old Town sits within city walls at the top of a hill overlooking Lake Geneva, and – even now – I love that I find a delightful surprise around almost every corner. There are grand houses and rustic cottages, cobbled streets and water fountains, climbing roses and window boxes, boutique shops and art galleries, colourful buildings and stonework that looks exactly as it must have back in medieval times.

I especially love the front doors… Who lives behind them? Who lived behind them 500 years ago? What joys and hardships have been experienced there? Have the people who have come home and walked through them over the centuries felt the same refuge as I’ve always felt walking through my own front door? Or have the pressures and tensions waiting there made them want to turn and run? Are these beautiful front doors a reflection of the people who live behind them? They make me dream about what the front door of my own family home will look like one day – and what will happen in the rooms behind it.

These are some of my musings as I wander the streets of the town I call home.

What does your own front door look like? What does it say about you?

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