Mirror, mirror on the wall….
Who are you, I say, who are you today.
What kind of a mirror do I look into? Is it polished and shiny, showing me up, so I can see the perfection of my image? Does it have cracks, places where details are shown to me, Should I feel broken. What if the mirror is old? My body waves back at me from where the wobbles and creases have formed. What do I really look like?
I guess if I ask myself that question I’d have to say I am. I am not the image in the mirror, a reflection of what my mind wants me to see. I am my thoughts, those thoughts that can target my weakness and bloat my worthiness. I think I’d like to be blind to all of that.
Tomorrow I will get rid of my mirrors and go down to the lake and ask the lake who I am.