We all have those little things. And by “little things,” I mean overwhelming convictions. All-consuming philosophies, ways of life. Ships we’d go down with. Forts we’d hold. Hills we would die on, get back up, only to bite the bullet again.
While I have more than a few words to say about the social expectations of airplane deboarding, or the fact that — what’s apparently news to some — sidewalks are two-way paths, none of these irritations amount to that one hill I’d twice die on: holding the door.
So, I have one overarching belief in life: always hold the door. Allow me to explain the door-holding philosophy. It is rooted in four founding principles:
(1) Door-holding is an indicator of courtesy. This one seems obvious, I know. But it’s easy to help others when it’s convenient for you. True selflessness can only be measured in out-of-the-way kindness, such as holding a door when it interrupts your rhythm. Door-holding is fundamental in acknowledging the humanity in others, that they are people too (and that people don’t deserve to have doors slammed in their faces).
(2) Door-holding is an art. Overthinkers know this artistic endeavor well. There is a preparation. You find yourself approaching a door, with a follower behind you. They’re not hot on your heels. Yet, they’re close enough that you know the door-holding philosophy applies. The last thing you want to do is arrive at the door too early, because such a failure would inflict upon your follower that awkward trot — you know, that little jog you do when someone far ahead is holding a door for you. In a brave effort to spare your follower this fate, you slow down your pace, but only to find that they’ve done the same. A seesaw of speed progresses. But, don’t worry, eventually you will prevail. After all, you are both going the same way.
(3) Door-holding practices patience and self-control. Life is full of difficult people. We encounter them every day — sometimes we are the unfortunate ones that find ourselves holding the door for them. First, there are the feet-draggers. The last to the finish, unhurried individuals that don’t seem to care that you have things to do, places to be. Propping the door open, you convince yourself that the worm on the sidewalk must be moving faster. And then, of course, there are the bad-mannered. Eyes glued to their phone, they (miraculously) somehow passed the fifth grade without learning the phrase “thank you.” As much as you feel an urge to slam that door shut in spite, you hold it open because, every so often, you meet that good-natured fellow who thanks you with a smile, making all the difficult people worth it.
(4) Door-holding determines your reputation. That’s right — I will absolutely be judging you on whether or not you hold the door. But, isn’t that something we all do? Let’s recall that most people we hold doors for are strangers. And that’s the beauty in it — door-holding is a form of micro-interaction that reminds us that we are a part of the human race. So, if you do not bother to prop it open for the next guy, you come off as disrespectful, no way around it. Bottom line is: if you do not want to seem like a jerk, hold the door, please.
When reaching for the handle next time, take a quick glance behind you. That’s all. It really is quite simple.
