Mirror

Three years ago I started a blog, intending to chronicle the exciting life I was about to embark on. I had just been hired to teach at an international school in Ecuador, and figured the process, and eventually the move and job itself, would provide experiences worthy of writing about. I’ll save the story for another time, but due to a major life event, my husband Jon and I ended up staying right here in San Luis Obispo County, CA. I occasionally made pathetic attempts at blogging about my “boring” life, but I always felt a little bit let down by the loss of an opportunity to write.

Recently I started thinking about a class I took while attending Westmont College. It was Advanced Composition: a requirement for my Liberal Studies degree that would lead to obtaining a teaching credential. It ended up being my all time favorite class. We wrote in journals. We wrote vignettes. We read each others’ stories and discussed. We ultimately ended up writing about glimpses from our lives — sort of super-abridged autobiographies. I don’t know if it was my own ego, the desire to be heard, or simply the fact that I love to write, and “me” was the subject I knew best… but I found that writing stories about my life and experiences was one of my favorite things to do.

I love to read and write. There’s something therapeutic about cozying up with a great book and losing myself in a well told story. There’s also something therapeutic about writing about life. It’s like looking into a mirror; noticing in that moment what’s already there, observing features that have been formed over time, or seeing the potential for what could be. It can be painful seeing yourself for who you really are. It can also be encouraging when you realize how far you’ve come. I love reading old journals. Sometimes I laugh out loud at how ridiculous I sound, sometimes I want to cry as I am pulled back through the heartbreak I was feeling at a time when the only thing I knew might help was to write about it.

The title of this blog was inspired by a song. Here are some of the lyrics:

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, have I got it?
‘Cause Mirror you’ve always told me who I am
I’m finding it’s not easy to be perfect
So sorry you won’t define me, sorry you don’t own me

Who are you to tell me that I’m less than what I should be?
Who are you? Who are you?
I don’t need to listen to the list of things I should do
I won’t try, no, I won’t try”

There’s more to it, but I’ll save that for later.

So here goes my new attempt. Writing about life. Looking into the mirror, remembering things and learning more about that person in the silver glass.