Faces

The faces in the reflections are never the same faces as in the trees, clouds, leaves. The faces in the reflections are always looking back, looking at me, emotion heavily present across their face but the faces aren’t me. Reflections aren’t just for mirrors. I see them in the windows, on the shiny surface of my chest freezer, a flit across the otherwise blank TV screen, on a mug, the tiles in the shower. The faces in nature always seem so present, full of wonder, without minds that wander. The faces in nature feel more like me, more of what I strive to be, now. Reflections usually in a moment of fear, pulling me back to awareness that my mind has been everywhere but here. They require a second look, sometimes a third or fourth before they leave. They aren’t ever-present, unwavering, like the faces in the trees. Reflections remind us that fear is fleeting if you remove its power – you can’t be afraid to look. Look again. Look again. Look again. Look. Again. Watch it dissolve, shift. Fear has no power, no face, if you call it out on its shit.

Much love, until next time.