I grew up watching an American daytime game show, Let's make a Deal, in the last round of each show, a contestant was given the option of trading whatever they had won, for what was behind door Number One, Door Number Two or Door Number Three. One of them contained the highest value prize of the day - often a new car, or expensive vacation, one of them contained the Zonk, a joke prize of no real value.
When I travel I sometimes wonder what is behind the doors? Who lives there? What is their life like? Do they enjoy good health? Are they suffering? Are they happy?
Imperfect as it may be, I wouldn't trade what is behind my door, for what is behind a different door. Inside our door, is the life we have built for ourselves, our collection of things that are important to us, things that make us comfortable and happy. There are also struggles behind our door, our struggles, ones we cope with. I am happy with our door.
We live in a highrise building. All of the halls, on every floor, look alike, all of the doors are painted the same color, the paint belongs to the association, the door belongs to me. I have only once gotten off the elevator on the wrong floor, and couldn't unlock the door, only then did I realize it was not my door, but door to someone else's life.