The Man in the Mirror:<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n
Today was the day I realized that I did not know the man in the mirror.<\/p>\n
He was about thirtyish, his too-long hair carelessly falling over his eyebrows. His eyes were gray, and the soul that could be seen through those windows was empty and broken.<\/p>\n
His beard was ragged enough that you knew instantly that it was not grown from pride, but from neglect. His upper lip was lost under it; his lower lip betrayed its own neglect, displaying their chapped condition.<\/p>\n
I stared at this figure for what seemed like an eternity. His bent shoulders and hunched back spoke volumes of what he’s held inside.<\/p>\n
That man had not laughed in months. Perhaps he had not laughed in years.<\/p>\n
A wisp of wet hair fell into my eye and I sprang to action.<\/p>\n
Opening my medicine cabinet, I sought my razor. It was still sharp after these months, and the light glanced off it as I set it to my right. I turned on the water and began to ready my face, warm water splashing onto the floor.<\/p>\n
I began, slowly at first, judging carefully the length of my sideburns. Then I lost all inhibition and attacked, cutting giant swaths through the hair on my face, running my hand behind to catch stragglers.<\/p>\n
Slowly, the man in the mirror became more familiar. His shoulders were set back in grim determination, but a fire had lit in his eye.<\/p>\n
Faster I moved, occasionally pulling hairs out by their root in my zeal. Then I stopped for a moment to survey the damage.<\/p>\n
The man in the mirror was no longer thirty. If each hair was a day, he could not have looked younger.<\/p>\n
I grasped the razor again, and made a final attack. As the last hair fell away, defeated, the man in the mirror again became me. I smiled, and the old, beautiful wrinkles came back: the one that traces my smile, even when I frown; the one that winks next to my left eye; and the two that I always thought made me look “distinguished.” All had come home to me.<\/p>\n
I began to laugh, watching my face for the first time in months, reveling in the shear stupidity and splendor of my own countenance.<\/p>\n
Again I turned the water on, this time as cold as I could. I splashed my face several times, holding my cold hands against my skin.<\/p>\n
I found my aftershave sitting right where I left it. I lifted the bottle and removed the top, still smiling. I rubbed it all over my face, making sure to cover every inch of exposed skin below my nose and ears.<\/p>\n
I looked at the man in the mirror again.<\/p>\n
He was laughing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Man in the Mirror: Today was the day I realized that I did not know the man in the mirror. He was about thirtyish, his too-long hair carelessly falling over his eyebrows. His eyes were gray, and the soul that could be seen through those windows was empty and broken. His beard was ragged […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"default","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"default","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,16,10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1660","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","category-chaos","category-essays"],"yoast_head":"\n