Still hanging out the car window after all these years. I remember when this started.
The blog. The stories. The craziness. The self-discovery.
|Mimi Sept 2016|
I've been an internet Queen who writes inquisitive memes, Founder of a peace movement, owner of one pretend dog (Homer) and one fluffy pretend cat (Persian Patticakes) and all things transparently me right here in the Blogger window of my life.
I snapped this shot the other day wondering how (and why) in the world I choose to show my messy hair to the world at large? What could I possibly gain from this exhausting exercise year after year? Same picture. Different day. Different year.
Then it hit me.
Messy hair makes me happy. I revel in the soft covering of curls that know my face. Caressing and comforting. I am married to brunette curls and leftover girl freckles.
I never EVER want that feeling to disappear.
Self-reflection needs a place to land you see.... Mirrors remind us to know ourselves and compel us to love ourselves. They beckon us to examine every dent and flaw. How unkempt a soul can be.
How beautifully the ugly truths tend to expose themselves when our eyes refuse to look away, when we choose to see what glass prisms hold, and when we lovingly stare into who we are, what we are and why we are. Because the color of acceptance is never dark. It is buoyantly full of strength and bravery.
or you can stare into your own truth and deal with what the nosy mirror tells you.
It's that gigantic
There's something about the chase that exhausts and infuriates me too.
I've learned that I must STOP. Look. Discover. Stare. THINK. Slow down. Reflect.
In effect, hang out the window for awhile.
I have a need to see how life has changed me. I want to see and feel it from the inside out.
I don't want to wake up one day and wonder how I got to wherever I am. Are you hearing me, Bloggy People? It's important that I understand.
What new wrinkle appeared and where? Am I graying yet? Was today's insanity enough to send me straight to the abyss where all the old people go to scream and gyrate over life's fits and storms? Or did my curly-headed level-headed brown-eyed brunette mess stand up to whatever life threw down?
It's taken a long curly while
But I know myself
and I like the woman-girl I see.
Facing mirrors is what I do
That's how the woman on the blog grew up.
I ain't scared of no stinkin' mirror.