Smoke and Mirrors
To see myself as others see me – ah, that would be a trick,
Worthy of a great magician. All I see is the greying hair,
The jaw losing definition, the eyes that look like my mother’s.
But when I look in the mirror of my sons’ eyes,
When they hug me and say, ``silly old woman,’
Voices rich and warm with laughter and love,
I see a reflection I can love too.
Silly old woman, to think I will ever get so crusty,
They won’t want to hug me.
posted by Gail Kavanagh @ 6:38 PM
4 comments
The 
4 Comments:
Sometimes when people hold up the mirror here I am in awe of how they see me and wonder if it is me that they are really looking at. Being the recipient of warm hugs is a good measure of the perception of others Gail.
aye, a 'mirror for observers' as well as a 'mirror for reflection'. As Lois notes, we need a mirrot that reflects the soul, not one limited to the reflection in another's eyes.
"But when I look in the mirror of my sons’ eyes, When they hug me and say, ``silly old woman,’"
ah -- but then it is 'lantern' you see, not a mirror -- for it is his light shining out to blend with your perceptions that cast away the shadows.
As I found out in my exercise, there are a hundred different views that people can see, only one of which may be right. I think Lois is right.
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