(b) in Parenthesis: "Monty, I'll take what's behind door #3." (reading time 1:55)

I was on my flight traveling home after spending the most amazing seven days in Prague. "Contrary to what I have heard from others that Prague is the Paris of the East, I beg to differ; Paris is the Prague of the West." --- Brother Alan (remember, not to be confused with the Trappist monks who make such awesome beer), having travelled most of the world and who is a bit opinionated about…let’s say most things…stated this fact on our last night together. It is a city of cultural, artistic and historic splendor. Each and every turn reveals a tapestry of colors, architectural styles, sculptures, paintings and panoramas; all embroidered with the sounds, aromas and pulse of European culture.

And then there are the doors. I have experienced tremendous favor in being given the chance to travel to a number of foreign destinations over the last four years: China, Portugal, Amsterdam, Budapest, Egypt, Lebanon. In each country I was mesmerized by the art and expression of their doors. Comprehending the history and span of years etched into each surface is beyond anything we, in America, can grasp. And behind each lay ornamented metaphors, similes and images of life’s stories. Priceless.

Most any Baby Boomer will remember Monty Hall who hosted the game show, Let’s Make a Deal. It was spine tingling, nerve-racking fun watching just how greedy one person could be when given a chance to trade in what they had won, for the promise of a prize of even greater value. The basic premise was that Monty, the quintessential huckster would walk around with a wad of cash looking to pay money for oddball things; like a $2 bill, mustache wax, a picture from your high school yearbook and the like. Once he bought the item from you, that then triggered a swap fest of negotiations. It was a flurry of deals to trade your loot for a next secret item hidden under a box, in an envelope, behind a curtain or a door. What was inside could be anything with a value of a new toaster, a trip to Paris or a new car. That was the good news. The bad news was that you might make a deal and end up with a goat, a loaf of bread or a picture of Richard Nixon in his Speedos, racing Bob Haldeman (they deleted that from the recent Ron Howard film, Frost-Nixon).

The moment of high drama titillation came at the end of the show, when the contestant whose loot was of highest value gets one last chance to make a brain busting, ego egging, lust luring, greed grabbing Ginormous Deal. His and Hers convertibles. A 10-speed bicycle. A scooter. A donkey.

Monty, the quintessential master of the moment (OK, Bob Barker from the Price is Right could hold his own), works the person into frenzy: I remember scenes with tears, screams, profuse sweating, jumping, nail biting. The one I cannot get out of my head is the man who, after utilizing each of the gestures mentioned above, would finally say, “Ooooh…ohhhh….ummmm…oh Monty, Monty, Monty…I’ll take what’s behind door #3.” Monty would milk it for every last rating point: camera close-up on the guy hiding his face behind by his hands; his eyes barely discernible as they peered between the slits of his nail bitten fingers, now looking more like gnawed stubs of beef jerky than like fingers (OK, granted that might be a bit gross, but I got caught up in the suspense).

And behind door #3 was….

So what? As leaders, followers, seekers, learners and teachers we might stop to consider:

Stop, look and find things that adore. Doors, in and of themselves, do not appear to be big deal. As with structures, you never know what you might find if you look closer at people and moments you are given to experience. Much richness of color and texture can be seen when you zoom in tight.

Be open to openings. Sure, we are all familiar with the saying about the content you cannot judge by looking at a book’s cover; same goes for doors and people and....