Living and working in a city, I have many opportunities to walk past large glass windows that face the street. These windows make great reflective surfaces—they’re practically mirrors for all the passersby. I recently noticed that I was using these windows as mirrors, frequently checking my appearance as I went about my day.
If I was wearing a new outfit I wasn’t totally sure of, or wanted to see if the wind had messed up my hair, it seemed logical to look at myself. But soon I realized that these checks were becoming a habit, with my eyes glancing into almost every reflective window I passed.
A few months ago, on the walk from my subway stop to the office where I work, a route that includes an especially long set of these windows, I again met my own gaze in the glass and just got tired of it! “Why do I do that?” I wondered in frustration. The answer I got was like a gentle chastisement, and came to my thought in a firm, almost audible, voice: “Have you forgotten who you are, and need to locate yourself in matter?”
