Frankly Put: Facing the Man in the Mirror
There is something to looking into a mirror and speaking to yourself in the third person. I think that it is such a crazy thing that our minds are able to do; for the mind to step outside of itself and address itself like an external party, mad. Although, I don’t really think I have ever done it like so and I think in some ways it shows.
There are things that perhaps one just needs to hear and the only one who can really say the things oneself. I have recently found myself in that position. For the longest time, I have struggled with a question. It isn’t even that the question is composed of rocket science formulae or brain surgery risks but somehow I still stumble. The question: “How are you?”
Admittedly, that question can be a thermometer to see how hot or cold the relationship is with the one that asks us. There are tiers to the honesty that the question evokes and I recently sat with myself and asked the me in the mirror, “Why?” It was an odd test of how honest I could be with myself too, just as much as I am honest with the people around me. Why do I struggle with the question?
Just like Michael, “I’m starting with the man in the mirror.” Starting by listening to my body and my subconscious that seemingly screams at me in a voice that I can only really pick out when I sit in my silence and as the time to do so gets harder and harder to make, I am left to look for other ways of getting to hear it (Shaking my head at adulting).
I realised that the question “How are you?” unearths how much lack of security my inner self seems to feel under the spotlight. It boggled my mind to sit there and address the fact that sometimes even I don’t feel safe enough to simply let down the walls that I have put up over the years, to reveal the chinks in my armour so to speak. It is a truth to step into like one would step into a new pair of shoes and wear them out to fitting. I’m still getting wounds from the chaffing on my feet.
Through this year plus of writing this blog, there have been hard questions I have asked myself that sometimes turn into blogs and sometimes remain reflections only for me to enjoy. As I say this, I realise the slight irony in the use of the word “reflection” in this context. Nevertheless, I realise that the truth being hard isn’t always that it is difficult but more so that it is uncomfortable, like getting hurt and having to look beyond the tattered and bloody clothing to assess the damage and dammit blood makes you skirmish.
Asking, “do you feel safe enough to talk about this specific thing with this specific person?” and the answer coming up a “no” is discomforting, especially when there is a bond that actually encourages that very interaction. Encourages the expression of those opinions and ideas. What feeds the fear and the lack of safety? Is there a lack of safety in self that fosters the very environment around me for me?
Now don’t get me wrong, this isn’t to say that there are people who don’t offer that possibility, they exist. It is just a case of being offered food you don’t eat often and you want to eat it but you know damn well if it wasn’t prepared well, the effects of it could destroy your innards and your toilet will suffer the consequences. Maybe that is what I fear. Not the toilet mishaps of course but after playing games of probabilities and what-ifs and winning more than losing, the pattern is very telling.
Even writing this is surprising me at this point. Perhaps it is the security of self that causes insecurity outside the self. Hear me out… When you live in an estate or village there is a sense of security created in the community of people and more often than not, it also comes from a point of understanding that there are similarities in level whether it be social class or family dynamics. If you are to live in a stand-alone house, you would build your walls taller, you’d get electric fences installed, a guard dog and security services even if you don’t live in a remotely insecure area.
If the case is so, at what point did I stop living in that community and how do I find my way back? I can’t help but call to mind the dark times in my life from which I took it upon myself to build a ladder out of the darkness I was in. I think of how I turned a simple greeting into a daily affirmation and every time I spoke to someone it allowed me to inch closer and closer to making it true, my answer “I’m good”. To the point, I sit in the eye of a hurricane and I can still say “I’m alright" to the ones that ask.
Now, should the question come, “How are you?” I think I am at a point of actualization that allows me to comfortably say “Yeah, I’m good,” without it feeling like a lie or being a lie as a matter of fact. I think that was the biggest takeaway from this little brain swab of thoughts. So I can now look in the mirror and tell myself on the days that it happens, “No you are not good and that’s okay, mate. Good isn’t a constant in your equation of life. Honesty could be though.” And I shall keep striving to answer honestly with boundaries.
Yes I can exist as an individual but I wasn’t built in isolation and facing the man in the mirror has shown me that there is more to life in talking to your reflection, to put it Frankly.
