I guess because in between a gate and a fence my life as a little child unfolded.

The gate was supposed to protect me from the outside world, where the other people lived, cars drove by, and if you did not know the way you would get lost. I often held its bars and daydreamed how it would be to travel that unknown world and get lost.

The fence was to prevent me from drowning in the village harbor that marked the end of our garden. Where according to my mom a monster lived that would pull your legs and keep you forever in the dark water. Drowning was a word I did not really understand then. But the thought of being kept in the dark, was enough for me to try to come close enough for me to look in the dark water to see if I could catch a glimpse of this monster.

Doors have always intrigued me as a child because they marked a halt, a pause, a forbidden or hidden and at times scary place behind it, where things happened or were kept not to be seen or heard by me.

I remember myself as a child gathering courage to open a door or felt so deeply that the door was keeping me away from my freedom. I have felt many times excluded when I found a closed door. I remember doors that were forbidden to be opened by me, and still, I would do it if I got the chance.

Now every door tells me a story of the person living behind it. I am intrigued to find a way to open closed doors. I knock and open many doors in my own inner world, and support people to do the same.

Behind every door another door leading to more spaciousness and understanding.

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