Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

Santa Fe, New Mexico

My home these days is a one-bedroom Santa Fe casita that has been renovated as a vacation rental but is still being furnished and equipped. One thing that has been missing since I moved in 16 days ago is a mirror.

It took me a few days before I realized that there wasn’t a single reflective surface in the entire house, other than the tea kettle, which distorted my image beyond recognition.

For two weeks I’ve left the house not knowing if my hair is neat, if I missed a spot shaving or if what I’m wearing sits right or looks good.

For two weeks I’ve faced the world not as who I want to be or how I want to look, but simply as who I am.

I’m now so accustomed to it that it’s a shock to come home this evening and find a mirror hanging over the bathroom sink.

I’m almost afraid to look. Have I changed in two weeks?

It’s almost a disappointment to discover that I haven’t, that I look pretty much the same as I did on January 31 when, in an Albuquerque hotel, I last looked in a bathroom mirror.

I realize it’s not about how I look, changed or otherwise. It’s about who I am.

When I hold the highest possible resonance, when I’m in alignment with my Divine Self, I’ll always appear in my perfection, regardless of whether my hair is mussed, a few stray beard hairs poke out of my chin or some aspect of my attire is off.

I’m glad to have the mirror. I don’t know that I’ll ever look into it in quite the same way again.