Seeing is Deceiving
I placed two mirrors facing each other,
and wondered what they were thinking.
“I see you.”
“No, you see you.”
“No, you see you.”
That conversation could go on forever.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
are you friend or foe?” I asked.
“Hey, don’t put that on me,” the mirror said.
“I’m just doing my job. You’re the one caught
up in the me, me, me.”
“But Mr. Mirror,” I replied, “it is you who are
giving people the opportunity to delight in
their own appearance.”
“Nonsense,” the mirror said. “I’m not responsible
for people who spend hours gazing into me,
marveling at their beauty.”
“Look at me. I’m so beautiful, I can influence others.”
Sadly, for some, that is true.
“But Mr. Mirror,” I said, “there are also people who
look at you, hate what they see, and want to hide
from other people.”
“And how is that my problem?” the mirror asked.
“Maybe you can tweak the view and help them out
a little,” I suggested.
“Oh, great idea,” the mirror said, “that shouldn’t
confuse them at all, until they find another
mirror!”
It’s not every day that you get to meet a sarcastic
mirror.
“Mirror, on the wall, do we really need you at all?”
I asked.
“I don’t know,” said the mirror. “Would you be happier
if I did not exist? Would you be happier if you had
never seen your face and could not pick yourself
out of a police lineup, or see your aging?”
“Hey, I’m the one asking the questions here,” I insisted.
“Listen, if you don’t want my help, just step away,” said
the mirror. “You can talk to yourself somewhere else.”
“Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the
bed,” I said. “So, Mr. Mirror, do you have any advice for
people who suffer because of what they see in you?”
“There you go again trying to blame me,” said the mirror.
“I have one job to do in life and I do it well.”
“Yea, yea, yea, but what advice do you have for those
who suffer because of you?” I asked.
“Play with appearance, if you wish, but live with character,”
said the mirror.
“So you’re not a fan of appearance?” I asked.
“Appearance is overrated and, honestly, a bit of a curse,”
said the mirror, “no matter how you look at it.”
“Well, if appearance is a curse, then mirrors are the
work of the devil,” I said, and then inadvertently
winked.
“Hey, no one is forcing you to look,” said the mirror.
“You should be grateful to mirrors for revealing to you
your appearance only!”
“Wow, you stole that idea almost word for word from
novelist Samuel Butler,” I said.
“And you had to look it up on Google,” said the mirror.
“Maybe I did, and maybe Google is recording everything
that I do, but at least I can pretend to not be quite so
ignorant,” I said.
“Who are you talking to?” asked the mirror. “You must
be talking to yourself because I’m just a mirror without
a mouth of my own.”
“Stop trying to confuse me. I see your lips moving,” I said.
“Those are your lips,” replied the mirror. “I can’t believe
that you don’t know that.”
“Of course, I do … I think. Anyway, have a nice day, Mr.
Mirror. Don’t reflect too much on your existence, and
don’t say another word!”
I have learned the hard way that it’s best not to let a
mirror have the final say.
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© Randall Snyder
