About Me

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I now live in Victoria, after a couple years on the North Shore of Vancouver, and a (too) brief time in the prairies. Working as an artist, mother and wife (not necessarily in that order), i am striving to live well, to find the truth of God in all things, and to pass on this truth to others.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

mirror mirror

there's a magical mirror in the first harry potter book - the mirror of Erised.  the person who looks into its shimmering depths will see themselves reflected with their hearts deepest desire. Dumbledore warns harry that many a man has wasted their life sitting in front of the mirror.   i think i may have had a glimpse of this dark magic myself yesterday - in the mirror of Anthropologie.

i walked into the change room, glancing at the floor to ceiling mirror beside me, and was struck by feelings of pride. "man, these jeans look good on me" i thought.  my sporadic work outs must be doing something good.  i turned to face the reflection:  my hair looks great today, wow, my legs look long.  wait a minute....my legs look long.

that was my first clue that there was trickery afoot.

i called out to scott "i think the mirror in here stretches me up" and the woman attending the change rooms called back "yah, they do that.  if you want a true image of yourself you can look in the mirrors out here".

well, well.

i called scott in "you have to see my legs in this mirror"...i confess i was entranced.  of course, my husband being who he is, came into the little room angry, using words like "manipulation" and "deceitful".  i just stared at those long legs of mine and smiled.

i suppose it surprises no one that he's the dumbledore and i'm the harry in this relationship.

now, in the comfort of my own home with my truthful mirrors and not-long legs i do feel a little miffed.  how mean to put that image in front of me - an image that no amount of working out or eating well could ever produce.  unless the rack is brought back as a beauty regime, the anthropologie image will never materialize.

and what about the population of women who are tall?  do they look in the mirror and see a behemoth?  do they cringe at the sight?

ah well, i bought the dress anyways, despite the crappy lying mirror and the scented candles that gave scott a headache.  i'm such a sucker for a sale.

usually at this time of year i like to write about looking back, remembering the lessons learned in the previous 12 months, practicing gratitude for all that i have been offered and experienced.

this year, i allowed myself a few peeks behind, but the last few months made me so annoyed that i have snapped my head forward.  ahead!  i will not depress myself with writing out the details of september to december, but let's just say that my role as mother has been requiring many hours of overtime.  sometimes i just have to look at my parenting as a job:  jobs have seasons of high intensity, jobs are not always enjoyable.  somehow this encourages me.  and then i think about all of the perks my job as a mother entails - i get to work from home, frequent snacks, hugs and kisses, no dress code...pretty cushy career!!  (just don't get me started on the lice and 9 weeks of flus and puke on the walls and crabby bored little people constantly complaining....)

as i said, let's look ahead!

2015 sounds like a year from the jetsons.  maybe we should get a pet this year and call it "elroy". wait a minute, did i just say that?!  when i wrote "pet" i meant "plant".

i will turn 40 this year.  that sounds like a number from the golden girls.  no, no, i'm just kidding.  but it is a number that makes me pause, and think "really?!".  mostly because i should be a total bonified legitimate adult by 40.  i always thought i'd be a lot more mature by this age, more calm and demure, finally quiet at parties and able to resist exposing personal information in moments of discomfort.  again, the dream is not the true reflection.

good thing i like the short, loud, inappropriate me.

1 comment:

  1. I like short, loud, inappropriate you too. And you have no idea how much I miss hearing your loud laugh from across the church foyer. I'm sorry your last months were hard ones, but glad you posted again. I was beginning to think you forgot all about us.