Portals and Portents
An unexpected clearing in Volkspark Friedrichshain. Following a little dirt path brings you to a curve of archways, three people tall. It…
An unexpected clearing in Volkspark Friedrichshain. Following a little dirt path brings you to a curve of archways, three people tall. It is impossible to resist going further. The portals, limestone and stained, betraying another time, reveal beyond them an era of metal and glass reflecting the subdued July sunset.
It is like approaching the eyes of a giant being. And further on, just beyond one of the portal eyes, you can see the world as they see it, peering out from behind their solid, stone windows.
And then you are through. On the other side, stepped terraces of stone cascade water down at the same time as it spouts up, accompanied by the carved likenesses of characters, human and animal contemporary to the great open eyes looking upon the city. On this outward-facing side of the portals, one is at the mouth of the new world. Behind, on the inward-looking side, the portal is still shrouded in the shadows of the Friedrichshain forest.
The sound of water. A dozen bubbling fountains drown out the minimal conversation of those who have also come upon this place, or who deliberately seek it. People don’t say much here. Or do much. They just sit.
Looking back through the portals on this side reveals deep and dark forest. Overlooking trees taller than even the arches remind that once you go back through, you are back in the shaded darkness. The wonder of this gateway is amplified by the quickly setting sun. Soon only lamps illuminate the curves and lines.
I think a lot about gateways these days. How sometimes you try so hard to make something happen, and it just doesn’t. And how in both modernity and antiquity, it is all about finding the right gateway for your intentions.
Places as gateways. People as gateways. Timing as gateways. Events, activities, and ideas as gateways. All things through which once you pass, you no longer see the world the same way as before. All things which offer the possibility to pass through to worlds you hadn’t known existed before. And once on the other side, it seems hard to imagine how this world could ever have been unknown to you.
The arched portals stay the same. And the carved figures never move, at least not according to our human span of awareness. Only the water moves, but it does not look at you. You look at the structure and by looking, you look into yourself. Who are you on this side of the portal? Who were you before? And what has changed in beholding this moment of wonder? What pieces of yourself have you collected together and fit back upon yourself, rearranged by your most current worldview?
What do you know now that you didn’t before?
And what can you see now, looking back to the other side, that was not visible before? And who will you be, if you choose to go back into the forest, having seen this place and reflection of yourself, or if you continue forward?
Who will I be the next time I return here? What will I know that I do not know now?
Portals and Portents. Gateways and Growth.
There is strength in privacy. There is power in secrecy. There is gravitas in silence.