Key

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/the_grass_is_always_greener_on_the_other_side


He stands at a door. He senses no other way around the door. From his position he sees nothing new and interesting on his side of the door. Nothing inspires hope nor a sense of feeling alive. All the grass is dry and brittle, and the trees seem to lose more of their green every day. The ground is rock hard and for many days the man's side of the door has been without rain.

He looks the door up and down. It is solid and the work of a skilled craftsman. The door has stood in the same location for centuries and has prevailed against the endless tests of time. The man has a deep desire to get beyond the door and go to the other side. What wonders and what opportunities could await on the other side? More than on this side, no doubt, the man tells himself.

He thinks of greener grass, stronger winds, and bigger trees. Days of plenty would last forever, and nights would hold no limit to their wonders. Stars would embellish the sky, and the sun would rise undaunted each morning with sweet kisses streaming down on each ray. His dreams held so dear to him would finally be answered and his thirst for once quenched.

He holds a key. To him it is the only way to breach the door. There is no other way he thinks, for why else would there be a lock for the door? Why else would there be a key? There is only this one reality in which he thinks, and the key is the only way through the door.

He attempts to lift the key to the lock. But the key is heavy and will not move from where he holds it. The key is weighed down with his doubt that what he thinks awaits him on the other side is wrong; that all he has seen and thinks will prove to be no better version on the other side. Time and time again he struggles to move the key. His light heart falters, and he feels himself fading. The key cannot move as it is far too heavy.

He ponders his situation. The heavy key cannot move, the key that is his one escape to a better life. A lifetime of questions floods his mind. What must he do now? If the key cannot move and unlock the door what does that mean about what he has thought? Is it all wrong? His very reality of the key has collapsed. His reality he has only ever known has abandoned him.

With a heavy hand he drops the key. It falls to the dry and caked ground with a heavy thud. In a slightly desperate manner he moves his hand towards the handle. With a shaky grasp he begins to turn the handle and the door opens. Sweet kisses of sunlight beam down upon his face. A quick scan of his new environment shows still more hardship to come yet renewed promise and hope. His initial confusion quickly dissolves into relief and awe.

The door has been breached and in less than a moment his heart soars. The key, in a figurative sense, was never the key to crossing the door, but rather the true key was letting go of his worry and doubt and simply walking on. Maybe then the man may adapt to his new reality.