You may not think this a very significant question, but I beg to differ. If you dig deep, the answer might be richer and purer than you ever imagined. It might even speak to the heart of relationship, or of hard work, or of community, or of learning. In my freshman composition class, we teach about threshold concepts. We encourage students to think in new ways and to leave older, more traditional ideas behind, even those they have held dear for a long time. We ask them to allow and even welcome a shift of paradigm, as they examine their own unique experiences with rhetoric.
Have you ever walked with determination and clear purpose into a room, but the second you're there, you completely forget what that purpose was? "What did I come in here for?" And you have to turn around and go back through the door in order to remember? There's actually scientific research that helps explain this phenomenon. When we walk through a threshold, something shifts in our brains, and we leave the past behind, sometimes even the whole reason we walked through the door in the first place. The threshold informs our brains to focus forward, on the future, on something new. How fitting, then, is the age-old tradition of the groom carrying his bride over the threshold, as the two leave the past behind and enter into a new life together!
Threshold concepts are new and sometimes even troublesome ways of negotiating life, but that trouble is not a bad thing--in fact often, it's supremely helpful. It allows us to grow, to progress, to evolve. I encountered several threshold concepts yesterday, as three women came to my house to can peaches and make jam:
First, I discovered that a common goal unites people, even virtual strangers, in an effort to achieve. Of the three women at the peach party, only one was a close friend. The other two I knew only casually. But after five hours of sticky peach juice and sugar water and steam canner anxiety, we were connected. A relationship was formed, community established. And even if we never do this again, that community will continue to exist and endure. Threshold.
Second, I discovered that for some people, canning and jam making are more than just the work required to produce a result; indeed, for some, such activities are actually enjoyable. While my friend is a bit more like me and willing to put for the effort in order to achieve the goal (yummy jam), the other two are positively elated in the process, so much so that they would happily do it every single day, and in the fall months, one of them even does! Threshold.
Last, I discovered that the color of peach jam matters. After repeated comments by the other three women regarding the glorious color of this new jam, I finally caved and asked, "What color is it usually?" Because, to me, it just looked sort of bronze-ish, a bit like the color of a summer sunset, and not all that spectacular. I was told that it's usually just plain orange. And this is..... better. Threshold.
So the next time you walk through a door for a very specific reason, only to completely forget what that reason was, do not be dismayed. Embrace it! Leave the past behind, and welcome the shift in paradigm. The "new" you discover might awaken something inside you that, though troublesome at first, proves ultimately enlightening. Like the color of peach jam.
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