Alice, and in the mirror, a hallway of doors

Last night, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was walking down a hallway full of doors. It was a narrow hallway, and dark, and all the doors looked the same - heavy wood, with a small square window made of one-way glass looking out just at eye-level. Each door opened onto a path, asphalt-paved and winding, unkempt around the edges. Some of the paths ran through the woods, others through the desert or the tundra, and all under a twilight sky. The only sound was the blowing wind.

Sometimes I think I am like Penelope unraveling Ulysses' shroud. I walk a path each day, and at night I run back to that hallway of doors, undoing all the progress I've made. The hallway of doors isn't endless, but I haven't yet found the end, and I cannot bear the thought of choosing one door only and losing all the rest of the possibilities.