We all have a self image of ourselves, it is an integral part of the armor we wear to help combat the attacks on our id that naturally happens throughout our daily routine, whether from our friends, family, co-workers or bosses.
And from time to time we catch a glimpse of our actual physical self in a reflection and , “Oh Shit!” Your self image crumbles like the walls of Jericho, but more like in seven seconds rather than the days it took Jericho.
Of course the glimpse is just that, a small fleeting look and once it passes our self image immediately springs back into place and with but a few lingering moments of guilt-induced, “I should get to the gym more often” or “I should really start a diet” we carry on as if it never happened.
Unless of course you live with my sister, in her house of mirrors, or as I like to refer to it…where reality really comes home. Giselle’s long passed husband had decorated the house with mirrors, not hanging intricately framed wall mirrors, but with ceiling to floor mirrors…on every wall. You could literately see yourself coming and going at the same time, yes the bedroom had mirrors as well.
Whether the reason for his choice was self preservation, you’ll never have your wife saying lets change the colour of the living room walls or a form of conceit, he was a good looking man, I’ll never know, but it does bring a sobering dose of realism to one’s id to constantly see yourself as others do.
And maybe this a good thing, as it humbles one’s natural ability to see yourself as the conqouring hero and more as the average Joe on the street, which face it, most of us are. And in so doing allows us to be more courteous and considerate of other average Joe’s since, we are, after all, but part of the madding crowd.
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