As It Turns Out, Mirrors Reflect.....Not Much

Every morning the first thing most of us do is to stare at ourselves in the mirror.  Whether we stare with delight, despair  or shoulder-shrugging ambivalence, we all see the same thing--us as we think we must be.  We must be who we see in the mirror, because mirrors can't lie, right?

But is that really how we are seen by the rest of the world?  By the people around us?

Or do we judge how we look just as surely as we know others judge us?

Living in Japan as a non-Japanese person, I wear my face a bit more obviously than most people living ensconced in their home countries.

While back in California I'm pretty unremarkable, here I am noticeably different--my face, my walk, my clothes, certainly my speaking skills and even philosophy on life.  My differences are made apparent to me every time I step outside my front door.  It's not a bad thing.  It's not a good thing.  It's just reality.

So clearly, how the Japanese people surrounding me see me is very different than how I see me.

When I am in California or even around other foreigners here in Japan,  I am again seen differently.

Case in point, in California, when I am shopping at a grocery store and buy a six pack of beer for Bob, I'm no longer carded.   If I go out to a restaurant or club with friends, I am not carded.

I clearly look over 21 in California.

So last night I went out with some other teachers and friends. At the entrance to the club each of the people in the line waiting to get in was methodically eyeballed and asked for ID.

All the friends I was with are probably about 10 years younger than I am.
Each of them were eyeballed and asked for their ID.

I stepped up and was eyeballed.

I had actually  begun turning towards the door, assuming that they wouldn't ask me for my ID.

And they did.

Which, to be honest, kind of delighted me.  But it also got me thinking.

I thought how interesting it was that I could be the same person everywhere I went, and yet be seen so differently.

And when I woke  up this morning, brushed my teeth and stared at my own tired face in the mirror, I wondered "I wonder if that is what everyone sees when they look at me."

Then I realized that it really doesn't matter how anyone else sees me.  And it actually doesn't matter how I see me.

All that really matters is that I'm here and I'm okay.

No matter what the mirror says.

Until next time.

The Myth of Beautiful Beginnings and Sad Endings

Hello all,

In the past month or so that I have been obviously MISSING from my blog (and  for the 2 or 3 people who read this, I apologize), I've been pondering a few things.


Namely how people view and describe beginnings and endings.

Beginnings are usually described in  glowing terms--beautiful, exciting, auspicious.  
Unsurprisingly, endings are described in contrasting terms--sad, bittersweet, heart wrenching.

Why?

There are always exceptions of course, but you know, I'm starting to think that out here in the real world, beginnings aren't always glorious, and endings aren't always heartbreaking.

Consider beginnings.
The beginnings of things occur when we are embarking into the unknown.

Beginning a new relationship.  A new job.  Beginning a trip, or a long-awaited sequel to a movie or book.

All unknowns, some more nerve-wracking than others.  But  unknowns nonetheless.

And friends, the unknown is fairly terrifying most of the time.  As adults we may hide our nerves and paranoid worries and illogical little fears of tiny, uncontrollable details...

But all our hiding does not change the fact that most beginnings are more terrifying than sublime.   Even the stereotypically beautiful and glorious beginnings are terrifying.  

Don't believe me?

How about 2 people getting married and beginning a new life together?
I would argue there is a whole lot of fear wrapped up in all the  excitement and love.

A new baby or child?
Absolutely terrifying.  I assure you.

New job?
Terrifying.



Now consider endings.
If beginnings can be terrifying, then endings surely can be beautiful and peaceful, holding a  sense of completion and release.

Even what most of us (including me) would feel are sad endings can have elements of this beauty.

Endings that mark the transitions of life have a certain beauty to them.

Graduations.
A grown child leaving home.
A departure or retirement from a well-loved job.
Moving  to a new faraway place.

These hold the beauty of  closure.   The reward for the cycle that began with all the terror of long-ago beginnings, coming to  a logical, quiet end.  

And even the most painful endings--the end of a relationship or the end of a life--can hold a certain quiet beauty.  

Because after the upheaval of the moment of ending, and after the terrifying beginning of a new life without the person who is now gone, the beauty is hiding.  Waiting.

The beauty of memories.
Of shared stories about someone missed.
The beauty of seeing the subtle genetic shadows of someone now gone in children and grandchildren.


Beginnings can indeed  be terrifying.
And endings can be utterly lovely.

Life is often about contradictions like these, and life rarely behaves the way we think it should.



Until next time....