I’ve spent a lot of time looking at mirrors. Not into them, but at them. Mirrors — most commonly sheets of glass backed by unbelievably thin, highly polished sheets of aluminum or silver– are everywhere. There are more than nine just in my apartment, and many more than that in the building in which I work.
Why are there so many mirrors everywhere? Why is the specular reflection of visible light so appealing to everyone? Is it possible that we as humans are so completely mesmerized by ourselves (and yet so frighteningly shaky in our belief in our own actuality) that we need constant reminders of our appearance? And does that lead to a validation of our external existence, the part that is visible to all others? Maybe it’s true that mirrors really do reflect a part of one’s soul, and that deep down we all recognize this primordial relation we have with reflections.
Or is our society so appearance-oriented that we need constant self-surveillance in order to check for imperfections and keep up our vigilant guard against the realities that constitute our ‘natural’ visages? Superstition used to say that mirrors deflect evil and attract good. Hung in the right place, they can even bring the owner wealth and food. Maybe we kept those beliefs around, hidden deep within our collective subconscious, and our outward obsession with appearance is really a reflection of our inner apprehension with the idea of being broke and hungry. Society after all does demand a good, if not flawless, countenance and carriage in order to succeed…
We use mirrors to trick the eye into thinking a room is larger than it really is, and to reflect light back and forth to make a space seem brighter. In essence, mirrors are beguilers that ultimately have the ability to show us how things really are. A quality ‘looking glass’ can paint a perfect representation of reality on its surface, one that no photographer or painter could ever hope to equal because that reality is fluid, ever-changing. Placed in the right spot, a mirror can show one a surprising new perspective on the world around them. It’s as if the mirror really is a portal, not for souls, but simply into another dimension of sorts, a world opposite and yet someone the same or better than our own.
I often find myself wondering what that other world would be like. Is the me I see inside that world exactly like the me that I perceive myself to be here, or is he somehow better or worse? Is my reflection in the mirror me in that world, the physical embodiment of my soul or my character, or am I incarnated in a totally different fleshly expression there? Does that me in the mirror have higher self-esteem or more/better abilities than I do, or does he feel as lost as I do sometimes? Is he more driven and confident, or is he perhaps a weaker form of me, one dependent on others’ approval and observance. Most importantly, if this other me actually did exist, would he be as cognizant of my existence as I am of his?
This is what I meditate on the most, the idea of another cognizant me that may or may not be better than the me that I perceive in myself. The idea that another me is sitting there guessing about my existence is honestly a little weird or creepy to me. I guess the real question is why? Why do I occupy my time wondering if another me in my head is better than me somehow? The confusion I feel in my life right now, the uncertainty of my future place in the world (metaphorically and literally), all lead me to wonder if the me inside the mirror has a better life.
In the end though, I don’t think he does. I’d like to think that the me inside this alternate reality is completely dependent on me, as he only seems to exist in direct relation to a mirror and my presence near one. But who knows? Maybe he exists even when I don’t see him, and I’m the one that’s a reflection of him. I guess I’ll never know…
On a side note, this idea of him being a reflection of me or vise versa leads me to a consideration of God as a reflection of man. In everyday religion, the existence of God seems to be dependent on his reflection in man, that is, his presence is only marked and noted when man decides he’s there. For example, something good happens, like a woman being cured of an illness, and the church says God is to thank. But something bad happens, like a car bombing or something, and the church condemns the ‘evil’ people who did it or blames the devil. Where was God then? And if he is so powerful, wouldn’t he help stop some of the atrocities going on, some divine spiritual intervention of sorts? I understand that we need hardship and difficulties in order to appreciate the good things in life, but why pick and choose when God is there or not? For that matter, if God understands that adversity makes up appreciate the good times, isn’t it possible that he — if he does in fact exist and take part in our everyday lives — causes these bad things to happen on purpose, thus negating the need for a devil in the first place? Old religions saw good and evil as one in everything, including their gods. Couldn’t God be the same way?
If mirrors reflect our souls, or at the very least offer us a truthful imitation of our reality, then God is like a giant mirror for humanity. His greatness seems to be an echo of the human race’s belief in its own superiority. And his apparent lack of compassion (his ‘wrath’ some would say) also mimics our own sometimes brutish nature.
-Liridon


