Sliding Doors
In 1990, I decided to stay in DC instead of moving to Los Angeles. This year, I decided to leave Oxford, MS and move back to the Bay Area even though I thought I would grow old and die here. Life turns on a dime, which is why there’s no point in jumping to conclusions or catastrophizing—because whatever you think is going to happen probably won’t happen at all.
In the film, “Sliding Doors,” we see two alternate realities of the life of Helen (Gwyneth Paltrow), based on whether or not she catches or misses a London subway train. In version A, Helen catches the train, gets home early, finds her boyfriend cheating, breaks up with him, and eventually finds new love and professional success, but also faces a major tragedy. In version B, Helen misses the train, arrives home late, doesn’t discover her boyfriend cheating, stays with him, gets betrayed, and falls into a life of failure and humiliation.
Despite the movie’s modest critical acclaim, it has stuck with me over the years, and it’s something I sometimes talk about with my patients. What was your “Sliding Doors” moment: when you chose A instead of B? I often wonder what my life would look like now had I chosen to move to LA in the 90s. Would I still be there? What would’ve happened?
Such musings don’t haunt me, but they do fascinate me—the unforeseen events that upend our lives, the decisions that put us on entirely new paths. Are they random? Do they happen for a reason? Some things are certainly beyond our control—like the deaths of loved ones—but some things aren’t. We may feel inspired or have a calling. We may be impulsive or adventurous. Do we shape our reality or does reality shape us?
Back in 2022, I sold my home near Yosemite because of forest fires eight miles away that scared me. Several months later, I rescued a dog, Henry, who bit two of my roommates. When they told me they no longer wanted him in the house, I moved to a farm in Mississippi for the summer in the hopes of rehabilitating him. Being in Oxford inspired me to move back to the South where I was born and raised. Yet four years later, a terrible ice storm caused me so much stress that I was “over” winter for good and decided to move once again.
Is it ADHD and wanderlust at play? Or is a Higher Power at work, revealing new paths for me? A friend of mine is a pastor who studied at Yale Divinity School. I once asked her if she thought things happen for a reason or if they’re random and chaotic. In response she said, “Couldn’t it be both/and instead of either/or?”
After experiencing a difficult childhood in the South, I left in 1986 to go to college, vowing never to return but did. In 2011, I had this feeling that I should do an extended visit with my mother in Memphis. I was at a transition point in my life and thought it might be nice to spend some time together because she was getting older, and I had missed her 80th birthday due to being out of the country.
One morning while I was there, my mom woke me up. Her face was ashen and she was holding her arm. She told me she wasn’t feeling well, so I leaped out of bed and called 911. In minutes, first responders were at our house. They gave her nitroglycerin and rushed her to the hospital where she was diagnosed with a heart attack and had two stents put in her heart. Life turned on a dime.
In the past four years, I’ve been able to make peace with the South. I believe it was a path presented to me for healing, and I’m glad I took it.
Heart attacks, fires, dog bites, and ice storms. My decisions surrounding these events are the sliding doors I’ve walked through. Life is not as black and white as we often make it out to be. As I often tell my patients, “Live in the gray”—that mysterious in-between space where inspiration, personal growth, and adventure exist in harmony or disharmony, depending on the day.
Photo credit: Gemini AI