Introspection

Take a good look at yourself in the mirror. You might try washing it once in awhile; I know you’re busy, but it’s hard to get anything useful out of a mirror if you have to spend twenty minutes scrubbing a brown spot off of your face only to ascertain it was dirt on the mirror all along. Go on, stand there properly. And stand up straight, you’re slouching and you know it.

There, that’s better.

And what do you see? What do you notice? Well, if you don’t see it I’m not going to tell you. Look closer. No, don’t fidget, don’t change anything, you’ll spoil it. Closer, closer. There. See it?

That’s you. If you squint you can see past the clothes and the hairstyles, past some of the masques you put on when you go out, past your worries, your stress, your hopes or fears, past the fact that you didn’t sleep much last night, what you had for lunch and what you’ve planned for next week. Sometimes you really have to squint hard. Some people are really tricky. Try for the eyes if you’re having trouble; it may be hard to get a glimpse. Most people don’t often look other people in the eyes, so good luck trying to look yourself in the eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. If we have a soul. Except windows don’t get shifty and blink a lot. Whatever it is that’s in there, you can see it through the eyes. Or so they say.

How much of you is left, when you strip off all the layers of other people you carry around with you? Their expectations, their preferences, their opinions—worst of all—tend to collect in the forgotten corners of you. Can you define what percentage of your behavior is pure you, unconstrained, uninfluenced by other people? Quantitatively or qualitatively?

Does your speech change, depending on with whom you are speaking? Does your manner change, depending on with whom you are? And who are you, when you are alone?

But don’t just stand there looking in the mirror all day. Narcissus died of that, or something similar, and anyways too much introspection is bad for the complexion.