A few months ago, the mirror that hung across our living room broke. It was a really big deal at the time because that mirror had been with us for 11 years ,through which we had moved to 7 different homes and 3 different cities. In that moment, I realised that the mirror had become a part of our lives, though not taking the forefront, more in the background, reflecting back our image from time to time. It was a visual composition of ourselves, our homes, our lives.
As I stared at the cracks in my reflection, mutilated and broken, I grieved and wondered whether the image reflected my broken self, unable to be fully reassembled as before, whole.
I felt as if a blindfold had been forcibly removed from my eyes to reveal my reflection, juxtaposed pieces of myself from life’s battles and beatdowns.
“Get yourself together for the next part, this will have to do for now”
It was hard to decide, whether to leave as it was or throw it away. The function of a mirror was to reflect what was infront of it whether flattering or not. It’s only purpose was to reciprocate what is present. Somehow this to me was unnerving.
“What good is a mirror if it only reflects a broken image ?”
Perhaps its cracks and crevices would tell a deeper story about how the reflection isn’t always as perfect as it seems. That life will often break you and you will have to build yourself together again. You might not be as you were before, but your cracks will tell your story; of victory after defeat, triumph over failure, resilience from challenging encounters which made, in my opinion, an altogether different, more interesting image.
