Smoke and Mirrors
Today on the Christian Radio program my mom listens to, I overheard that as human beings, we can’t help looking in mirrors when we walk by. We have this self obsession, and the different mirrors we look into are sometimes skewed. Like in a fun house, when we look in the mirror, it doesn’t show the truth. We’re constantly seeing mirrors showing us that we’re not attractive enough, not capable enough, not worthy enough, and they cloud what we should know as our true value…
For my NGA application, I think I should write a piece about a girl who is deceived by the puppeteer at a carnival, when he takes her by the hand and leads her into the funhouse, showing her the different mirrors. She enjoys them at first, but the puppeteer disappears with a wicked grin, and looking into the mirrors, the girl starts to cry, because she is convinced that she is morbidly flawed. She runs, the hallways turning and turning, and she becomes lost among her reflections, unable to tell which of them is the real her. She eventually bursts out of the back door, into the sunlight. Her tears stop, and she breathes deeply, until a glint catches her eye. There, propped up against the peeling blue paint of the rough wooden deck is a final mirror. It is full length, like those in the funhouse, but there are no imperfections along its surface. The girl warily approaches, and when she sees no monster or clown there in its cheery face, she laughs. The person she sees there could never be her. Too beautiful, too young, too vulnerable. She walks away in disbelief, to see the skewed reflections of herself for the rest of her days.
Well, maybe it should have her stop and realize how retarded she’s being and run back to the mirror and smile and laugh and rejoice. I can have a happy ending for a short detailing my hopes and dreams for the future, right? :)
In each of the mirrors of expectation I set up for myself as well as those society, the church, and my parents have bestowed upon me, I’d like to see my true value, the ideal, original me God created, and not my shortcomings.
Just because you rub a thousand dollars in the mud, shit on it, or stick it in a bucket of stinky old fish and eggs, it doesn’t diminish what it’s worth. You can still cash it in at the bank, no matter what.
