Apropos to a previous post, I decided to practice what I prattle. So I looked in the mirror. This mirror – it is no ordinary mirror. It is like those body scanners that work in airports, that rip your clothes off, and shred your so-called modesty to the world. Why did modesty ever become associated with lack of nudity? The human form is so beautiful, or else sculptors wouldn’t spend so much of their lives trying to recreate its perfection. But I digress. This mirror I looked into – it is the soul scanner. It is capable of digging deep into the scattered remains of your self, and bring to the surface that which passes for it. So I looked. And looked. And here is what I found.
First to come was meanness. Pettiness. They came floating up, threads of old memories still sticking to them. They looked so threadbare. I must have used them so often. Still use them.
Then came jealousy. This wasn’t green as most people assume (green is the color of nature, why again is it associated with a negative emotion?). But this was bright red. I love red. But I hate jealousy. Never knew it till perhaps three or four years ago. But there it was. Sparingly used. But sparkling, well maintained.
I cast that aside. Or at least I wished I did.
After that came an odd-shaped container that looked like a tongue. And it was indeed a tongue! A tongue that was almost yellow, turned so with the bile that often spews out of me. I looked at in repulsion. Surely this can’t be my reflection? But it is. The one organ in our body we use the most with the least respect. Right, no dirty thoughts here please!
And then came an assorted debris – pale buttons of regret, old socks of despair, colored brown, beyond all use, and then buckets of tears for things minuscule and hollowness for things beyond minuscule, those scars that cut deep across the soul, those that require open-soul bypass surgery.
I coughed. The fumes from the mirror were overwhelming. Yes, it is a bit of a live mirror. Tends to take on to itself what it projects. Bit like us actually. Its form changed slowly. I glimpsed bits of kindness, all warm fuzzy golden glowing. Then some moldy remains of love that held fast despite the stench in my heart. Or soul. Or mind. Or wherever it is that love resides. (Not just that family-spouse-children-boyfriend-girlfriend love, please). But love that can take many forms – love for reading, love for a country, love for a dog, love for a friend, love for a lover, love for a teacher, oh why restrict it! And then there emerged a fuzzy image. I couldn’t see this properly. I peered closer. It remained fuzzy. Then it slowly swirled and I saw that it was the mind. My thoughts! Casting around and moving like thousands of sperms in a cell. And I was aghast. The mind can’t be here! This is a soul scanner. But the mind and the soul can’t be all that separate, can it? And then the image became clear again. And I saw what I have always wanted to see. Nothing. Clearness. It was just the mirror telling me to offer a clean slate. Or perhaps telling that I have a clean slate. Or that I have nothing. Or that I have everything. And that perhaps, makes it something.
