In the In-Between

In trying to walk out the door this morning, I found myself pressed against the screen. The back door had swung closed, and my hand repeatedly pushed the screen-door latch, but kept absently missing. It took my brain a little while to figure out what was going on, and in that time I remained a malfunctioning robot, pushing at the wrong spot again and again. Later, I wondered if that's what we are all doing in life - ever pushing at the exit latch, and only once succeeding. Then it occured to me that in life, just like this morning, before you get to the middle state between the doors, you're in the kitchen, and afterward, you're in the back yard.