This episode has Finn going through a dungeon where the only way to enter is to close your eyes and the only way to escape is charge through with no planning or thought. He has to go through it alone. Much like growing up, many people can guide you, like Jake and Finn’s map in the very beginning of the episode, but once someone enters the dungeon of growing up only he or she can come out of it. Once Finn goes in, the door behind him closes and he is stuck alone in this dungeon until he can find a way to escape. Finn eventually lands in a room with an upside down stone snowman and a closed door. To open it Finn smashes the stone snowman against the door. This action doesn’t work and the door is still sealed shut.

It is not until Finn closes his eyes and is completely blind that door lets him through. Past the door, he enters an ever-changing maze. I think the maze symbolizes life, especially life around my age as a teenager; it’s unplannable, with so many outcomes, so many traps, so many wrong turns. The only way Finn could go through the maze was by charging through it, not only literally blind but also mentally blind, with no plans or preconceptions. Finn runs through the maze and finds his way back to Jake.

He is free, or so Finn thinks, but the moment he opens his eyes, he is immediately brought back to the start of the dungeon. Finn didn’t learn his lesson. Watching Finn’s progress reset when his eyes opened really hit home to me because I realized the lesson of this episode. Sometimes the only way to go through life is not by planning out the future and its many paths. That will leave you blind. Instead just let life blindly guide you.

Finn realizes this and leaves Jake and his home, he has to go it alone. It mirrors the start of the episode. With one exception the maze he enters blind is now life and life somehow leads Finn to the Hall of Egress again. This time something was different. Finn had to open his eyes to enter the door. The maze isn’t invisible and he finds Jake again but now nothing resets. Finn has grown up or at least started to.

I still have no idea what “At the seashells center lies the cornucopia’s smallest door” means, but I’m sure it has something to do with becoming an adult. When adulthood happens, I’ll know. Until then, instead of being blinded by trying to grow up, I’ll just let life guide me for the next six months with my eyes wide open the whole time.