The Mirror Tells All
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 2:44PM When you walk past any mirror, do you really look at yourself? What, if anything, can you glean for your reflection there? Some of us avoid looking, while others can’t resist a peak. Then there’s the true aficionado who stares at him/herself for hours. But what do any of us really see?
Our reactions to those mirror images, without question, are influenced by what we think others see. We wonder and worry about what their responses will be, when more importantly we should be focussing on our own self-visions.
The media bombards us with images of thin, thin, and thin; and abs, abs, and abs. Even when advertising products that are generally used by those over 40, the models in the ads are under 30… not a true depiction. But, then, the companies and the ad agencies make money by playing on the public’s increasing gullibility and insecurity.
I am one of those that only sneak a peak now and then. Oh, I am in front of a mirror every day, but only for the few seconds it takes to comb my hair. I don’t wear makeup. So I don’t pay much attention. Still, those few seconds tell me a lot… that I’m getting older; the wrinkles are getting deeper. Are they laugh lines, or are they frown lines? Depending on my mood, they are either. Occasionally, I get real profound and tell myself they are ‘life’ lines. The contours of our bodies, the lines etched in our faces, the spots upon on skin, and the natural colours of our hair - are all works of art - the art of living, no matter our age. It is a difficult realization to come to. Yet, it is the only true reality. I have seen a small child with fine lines etched into his face. I have seen an 85-year-old woman with none!
As an adolescent beginning junior high, I was quiet and reserved, which made me a target for teasing and being taken advantage of. It was a brand new environment and a whole new set of rules. My parents were strict in their religious beliefs, which put me at a great disadvantage – in my eyes. It was the mid-to-late 60’s when the fashion was mini-skirts and go-go boots, which I wasn’t allowed to wear. Cliques of female classmates had fun pretending to allow me to join their groups, knowing full well that I wouldn’t pass their ‘initiations’. I really did try, until they just laughed and talked about me, while I was within earshot. I, therefore, learned to hate school, and to mistrust my own gender. I became a loner, and remained so throughout high school. Eventually, I learned to tell myself, and rightfully so, that they weren’t worth my companionship. Yet, the feeling that I would never ‘fit in’ had ingrained itself deeply into my psyche.
That is just the type of insecurity that entrenches us in the vicious cycle of needing to look beautiful, to be beautiful… on the outside. I know that I’m not beautiful on the outside – never will be. I just don’t possess those qualities, if that is indeed what they are. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t think that way. I don’t think such things to ‘cut’ myself down. It’s just a fact in the eyes of society. That fact I’ve come to accept. What I don’t accept is that how I feel, how I see life, and how I try to live life in this new millennium – is unacceptable in the eyes of most people today.
I will explain why a little further on. My parents, unwittingly and innocently sheltered me, starting me on a hard road. Classmates made me look to myself, and only myself, for comfort and support. And today, the media irritates my hard-earned sensibilities; because today, I know it is essentially superficial and phony.
I ran away from home at 18, and ran from the frying pan into the fire. Hard living drew me even more into myself. It was very difficult to trust anyone, and when I did try to, I was pre-disposed to believing they would let me down; and they did almost every time. Today they call it the ‘law of attraction.’ But I survived, and today I view that survival as my purpose in this life.
I knew hard work. My parents taught us self-reliance. We built our beautiful home and the acre of landscaped land that surrounded it over the course of our childhood years.
My classmates taught me the difference between going with the crowd and standing out alone, and the loneliness that usually ensues.
Hard living taught me that giving up was unacceptable, and that personal integrity was essential. We listen too often to the opinions of others. We, then, become them instead of ourselves. That was unacceptable to me.
It had been a long tough road, but I was beginning to like myself – at a time when everyone around me, and society in general, was scrutinizing my graying and older reflection in the mirror. I chose not to subscribe to that scrutiny.
There is so much beauty going on ‘under my skin.’
It was during the roughest times in my life that I discovered my love for working in dirt, for creating works of art, and for listening to beautiful music. When I wrote home, the letters were multiple pages long. It was important to relay my deepest thoughts so that the reader would understand my plight. Those ‘books,’ as my mom called them, brought to light my overwhelming desire to share my experiences through writing.
We are told as children to grow up and behave. I never have, not fully. Yes, I behave in an adult manner while conducting most of my daily tasks. But my heart and mind also continue to revel in childhood activities. My husband and I, now in our mid-to-late 50’s, absolutely enjoy watching children’s movies. We recently watched both Happy Feet and Horton Hears A Who and loved them. We partake in a helping of cake and ice cream more often than most think we should. We have embarked on the new hobby of two-wheeled mobility; no, not of the bicycle variety. He has a Harley Davidson; me, I have a Suzuki 400cc motor scooter. Friends and family think we’re crazy, must be going through a mid-life crisis. Not that motorcycling is a childhood activity, but our societal circle thinks we’re too old. Well… we don’t care.
And why should they think that anyway? We are careful. We research and study all the pros and cons. We didn’t get into the activity foolishly. But we got into it nonetheless!
Each year, at our annual family Christmas parties, finding out what my contribution to our gift-giving has become a fun part of the get-togethers. The reason for that is because my gifts are home-made and different each year. The fact that they are hand-made makes them that much more sought-after, because they are created with thought and care. And that is my objective.
And it is fun!
Being resourceful and self-reliant seems ‘lost’ on today’s young. They’d rather pay to have most unsavory or time-consuming tasks done. To get one’s hands dirty, or to sweat just a little under the hot sun… well, those are no no’s. The days and sometime weeks it takes, and the seemingly tedious task it is to put a 1,000-piece puzzle together is another. To toil over the fine tuning of a beaded jewelry piece can be a daunting task for the faint of heart. They cannot see that that is the ‘stuff’ that personal integrity is built upon – patience and perseverance.
Hard work doesn’t just strengthen the body. Even more so, it strengthens the mind and soul. I worked hardest at things when life was troubling me the most. It was awesome therapy. I didn’t need any counsellors or therapists. And I especially didn’t need drugs or alcohol. Instead, I tried a new hobby, or renewed my interest in an old one. The point is, I looked to the creative side of my persona to guide me through the ‘curve balls’ life threw at me. Through a little bit of self-actualization, seeing a task done to its completion, or the personal satisfaction from creating something with my own hands, I drew the strength I needed to get through a crisis.
No self-destructive habits, nor any bullying of others to achieve my objectives. I abhor bullies of any kind, for I have been bullied way too often in this life. I desperately try not to perceive new acquaintances as guilty when I first meet them, but I do not perceive them as innocent either. Unfortunately, I have not completely lost that sense of mistrust that was so firmly established at a young age. It is an unending personal mission of mine to change that. I am by no means infallible. To a fault, I am modest and humble, among others… more qualities that are frowned upon. But I will not change. I happen to like them and am proud of them.
I am also not very religious, something my parents were and are quite disappointed in. The guilt is there, but I pray often, usually for others and not for myself. But then, to ask that my family be kept safe and free from worry – wouldn’t that also help in my life being a bit more safe and worry-free? As an adult, I’ve only entered places of worship for weddings and funerals. To me, the surroundings and the environment are oppressiveand repressive. My ‘cathedral,’ instead, is nature in all its beauty and glory. There, my God and I have chats. Sometimes I’m angry with him. Other times, I sense and am awed by the tiny role I play. But I pray to Him that He allow me to play that role well, and as he sees fit. Though I have no idea who ‘coined’ it, I take much strength from the phrase “God helps those who help themselves.”
So, in that – I believe that I am spiritual.
I will never stop evolving, stop growing. I also don’t believe our development stops when we pass to the other side. I believe we then become ‘guidance counsellors’ for those we leave behind, guardian angels if you will. These beings’ monitoring of our lives is in response to our prayers. This is what makes sense to me.
The lines and boundaries that society and people close to us have drawn for us are very hard to cross. It is painful to be alone. We avoid it. Quite frankly, we should not avoid, but rather meet the pain head on.
If we limit our individual thoughts and actions to the projected thoughts and actions of others - who, then, are we really? All the things I’ve come to love and enjoy through my own efforts – they would then be non-existent. The child-like fantasies, and not having (too much) fear in trying new things – would be non-existent. I, as a unique individual, would be almost extinct.
There is a program going around the country, and it is depicted on one of our syndicated TV channels (USA Network) – called Characters Welcome. Well-known photographers travel from coast to coast to find and take photos of those they feel portray their unique characters. They are colourful, move with abandon, and take little heed of who will see them, possessing the courage to ‘act a fool.’ They are being themselves. These are the stories we do not hear often enough.
One important key to possessing this real courage is being true to, and with, yourself. Question yourself often. What has brought me to this decision? Why did I react that way? Why can’t I do that? Who can I really trust? Am I really having fun? Do I really like who I am? If a really heavy-duty crisis were to hit me tomorrow, would I make it through?
So, what do you see in your mirror every day? Someone whose life path is acceptable by the one staring back at it? Is the stage you have reached in your life so far brought you far enough along that you will have no trouble continuing on down a righteous path – no matter the obstacles? Do you see someone whose reflection really is beautiful after all?
This where that age-old adage comes in oh so very handily….
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder….
