Get Out of the Looking Glass…

It’s a good day to go to Brazil.  On the day of my departure, winter finally hit.

It only started snowing around 11 am, but by the time I was on my teeny-tiny tin plane to Detroit, the world was a blanket of white.  A shroud of fog and snow enveloped the airport lights until they misted out into oblivion.  Beautiful, yes, but not looking so good for visibility.  Patches of the white stuff scaled across the tarmac like psoriasis on an albino.  I watched with focused and rapt attention as the horde of yellow de-icing trucks descended  upon my air-planes’ toy wings.

Just in case they missed a spot.

Our wings sufficiently coated with what looked like Lime Gatorade, I white-knuckled my seat rests as we hoisted into the sky.  With probably only just enough horse-power to clear the clouds, I surfed on a sea of cumulus, left behind a winter-wonderland, and stared out a tiny window at the horizon-line of a pale, pink winter sunset.

I think that I am finally experiencing an emotion that resembles excitement.  Or else I’ve mistaken that for nervous energy.  At the airport and on the plane, I wanted to eat EVERYTHING.  Devouring all those micro-waved plastic pouches of well,….probably chemically scented, preserved and infused plastic, as if it was a Kobe beef filet-mignon.  Constantly inserting peanuts, pretzels and granola bars into my mouth…to smother and placate the frenetic butterflies in my stomach.

On the way to the airport, I couldn’t stop talking.  And when I said goodbye to my friend, I couldn’t tell if I was laughing or crying.

I am really doing this.  I really just said goodbye to all of my stuff, to my friends, my dog, to a new love….to everything which makes me feel grounded and provides me with a point of reference.  A circus of memories, experience, juggling acts and clown-like impersonations.  A veritable fun-house of mirrors, with so many reflections and perspectives of myself.

But it’s all illusion, isn’t it?

I mean, obviously those things exist, but are their reflections accurate?  Does looking into one mirror give me enormous skinny legs and a stretched-out bobble head?  Does one reduce me down to midget size to become one in the land of the Munchkins?  And why, why do we pay so much attention to these reflections of others??

Have you ever balanced on one leg while looking in the mirror?  Found calm and stability within the throes of your own gaze?

Now close your eyes.

Me, I always fall.

So that is the goal: to balance on one leg with my eyes closed.  To know exactly where I exist in space, to balance there, internally, without relying on ANY reflections.

Because isn’t that the only perspective that matters??

“Finding balance is not letting anyone love you less than you love yourself.”


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