Why I Like Windows

I have a bit of a "thing" for windows. I made a window picture frame once, painted it maroon and hung it on my office wall when I lived in Salt Lake City. Anytime I see a framed-out box, I see a window. I always keep my bedroom window open, and perhaps I love the story of Peter Pan so adoringly much because he enters through the window, much as I wish I could.

Windows to me symbolize fresh air. Not just fresh air in the literal sense, though I do love and always long for fresh air. Fresh air to me is the ability to take in the wide world around and outside myself. The ability to stop everything, look outward, look forward, and just breathe, forgetting every other nonessential task but that life-giving one of taking breaths in, and letting them out.

Windows are like small reminders of freedom. Every little thing I desire is out there waiting for me, and all I have to do is look out the window. They are openings to new worlds, new adventures.