September 23rd
What Do I See in Front of a Mirror?
Go look in a mirror. Describe what you see. Give us the details
I stand in front of the mirror. What do I see?
I see the person who cried today morning after placing his hands on cold red roses because he couldn’t bear to carry the umbrella of beauty that opened up in that simple act of connecting with nature.
The person cried again when he saw a homeless man sleeping outside a Walgreens store, breathing heavily on the cold concrete.
The person who craves the solitude and spaciousness of the desert, who cherishes the act of gazing at the Milky Way on a cold December night and feeling so connected with the universe that time, space, and his being all melt into one speck of dust.
The person who’s been through physical challenges — being kidnapped at gunpoint in a cab in Ecuador, almost drowning in the Ganga river, almost getting electrocuted while parachuting past an electric pole, traveling in a train that got derailed and flipped sideways — and emotional ones: the trauma of missing his beloved grandmother with whom he ought to have spent more time as an adult, but didn’t; all the feelings that drift along after a sixteen-year relationship ends in an unfair and sad manner; the sadness of…
