Just a Mirror

There you are, I sigh, as I look at myself in the mirror. A face I've watched change for many years. It's just a reflection, a face that looks back. It has no soul, it has no thoughts or reflections. If I were a witch, I could ask it a question and it would answer me. What would I want to ask it, better yet, would I want an answer.

I used to look in the mirror not thinking about who the reflection was just concerned with only what the reflection showed me. The mirror shows if your hair is in place, if your makeup is on just right, and if your clothes are making a statement. Sometimes the image seems to whisper your thoughts. The image is capable of lies as it can be deceptive making the viewer see a fatter image or a skinnier one. It's a jester because you can laugh at the reflection you see. It can produce tears when viewed as the reflection can cause the viewer to see the real subject. On occasion, the reflection can boost a person's confidence because if they look good, it makes them feel good. I'm scared to care about my reflection.

One shouldn't sit and look in the mirror too long. You can get lost in what you see. You'll try to change and rearrange and before long your mood will have changed too. All the changes may make you mad because you now look worse than you did. Then, again, you might make change after change trying to get a certain desired look. Usually, the faster you check out your reflection and leave the better off you are. The more you sit and stare the more flaws you'll see.

Mirror reflections don't talk back but they do say a lot. I used to watch my mother sit and talk to it the whole time she was putting on her lipstick and brushing her hair. She was a beautiful woman and I loved watching her, wishing she would talk to me instead of the mirror. Once I was watching her and caught my father's reflection in the mirror. He had such a sad look on his face as he was listening to my mother converse with the mirror. It's like he sensed that it had a spell over her. That's why I've been scared to sit and stare at it too long myself.

My sister used to watch herself dance in the mirror. She'd smile at the mirror like she was smiling at a real dance partner. I thought how silly she looked. She was having such fun as she watched herself dancing. Was the image she saw telling her how good she looked or that she was a good dancer? If she asked me, I'd tell her. Would I tell her the truth or what she wanted to hear like the mirror does?

I look around to take account of all the mirrors I have in my home. There's a mirror in the bathroom, the bedroom, the living room and even a mirror in the kitchen. Do we need constant assurance that we are looking our best all of the time? Are people that vain? I wonder if men look in mirrors as much as women do. Children seem to be fascinated when looking in a mirror. I have to say a mirror is just a mirror.

The face I see is really me. It is what it is. My mirror doesn't lie, it doesn't tell me how pretty I am. I want to see a happy face but it doesn't show me that either. I want to pick the brush up and throw it at the reflection looking back at me. I laugh because I can't even have that pleasure because I'm too poor to replace the dang thing. So, I laugh, I look at the reflection and laugh. Wow! I have a jester mirror after all! With that, I look at the reflection in the mirror and blow it a kiss and I leave knowing I'm sane because it didn't kiss me back. I do have to get ready for dinner.

The bath did make me feel better. I'm feeling refreshed and ready for anything. Again, I sit and look at my reflection in the mirror. I keep expecting it to say something. I stare at the image. Something is not right. The reflection is showing me something I do not want to see. I'm frightened. The mirror is yelling at me to see what it is showing me. There is a another reflection in the mirror! In this instance, the mirror is a life saver. The brush I so wanted to throw at the mirror, I use to turn and throw at the man coming towards me. I acted so quickly I was able to get out of the reach of the stranger. I ran down the hallway and I could see him in the mirror in my living room. He was coming after me. I ran into the kitchen and as I was searching for a knife, I looked up in the kitchen mirror and, again, saw the man now walking towards me. My image in the mirror talked to me and told me what to do. I was screaming as I turned and threw the knife into the man.

He grabbed the knife and tried to dislodge it from his chest. He dropped to the floor and stared up at me in disbelief. I was able to reach the phone and call 9-11 before I took my next breath. It was over so quickly it was if it had never happened.

The mirror, the subject of all my thoughts this day, had been my means of escape. I now have a new found appreciation of it. I will listen when it talks to me and I will continue to listen.

When faced with death you have reflections of your past life events and will reflect upon them in truth just as you face your reflection in the mirror.