Perceiving, and the Mirror

When I look at myself in mirror I see my reflection, and an image of whatever it is that stands before it: something with a surface, like a casing, a costume, a skin. The same happens when I look inward beneath my outer boundary into the pool of myself; I fathom an image. Viewing both in parallel with one another I find I am no longer merely looking or merely imagining, but perceiving—coordinating all of my senses, my impulses, my drives, impressions and expressions, into a fully dynamic experience known as a human being—a cause and effect, an event with infinite creative power but limited to a finite beginning and end.

When I look closer into the mirror and peer into my seemingly infinite pupils, I begin to see yet another reflection, a reflection of a reflection, revealing that my image travels in the light around me, reflecting itself in an infinite amount of ways back to the perceiver and back out again. I can see myself in the reflection of my own eyes.

The same too when I look inward, I see my reflection in a vast amount of ways within an infinite amount of images. Perhaps I imagine a soul; perhaps I imagine a consciousness; perhaps I imagine gods and reincarnated beings; perhaps I imagine a mind; perhaps I need no such conjectures to find value in myself. These inner-reflections feel no pain and are not limited by physics—they likely do not even exist at all—but I perceive them as if solid, as if seen by eyes, vivid, sensual but without the senses. I want to see them. I want that immortality. I want that judgement. And mere desires they become.

Yet what of the reflection in the mirror? It hasn’t moved despite having created whole worlds in its head. It stands there, still staring, aging, withering away, waiting for something. It has long stopped perceiving because it has gotten lost in imaginary forests and circular labyrinths in the mind, forgetting to look. It chases for something within itself, something only it can see, an idea only—perhaps truth, perhaps salvation, perhaps eternity; whereas what creates the idea, the very soil from which it grows and from where it shall be expressed, grows old.

Or think only of the surface, that reflection in the mirror. It is what others see of me and is public to every single scrutiny and judgement. Upon it I can adorn baubles and shiny objects, show my irony on my t-shirts and hats, at least, in a paradoxical way, to display what I can only think is unique about me, while what is inherently unique remains disguised behind it. My image reflects in every eye that sees me, like the mirror, and it gives so much of me away, almost too much of me away. I have become addicted to that image, that reflection in the mirror, because I have stopped perceiving, forgetting to imagine, while what is impressed into its very core grows old.

Then I turn off the lights. No mirror. No reflection. No image. Seeing myself in the dark, alone. All egoism gone at the turn of a switch. No less, I am still what stand before the mirror.

what your seeing is light bouncing off the atoms in your body, they key is stopping them, then your invisible...... without turning off the light....

reply to post by Aphorism


Beautiful. It is addictive, for sure, and we are all addicts.

That reflection is also wondering why you haven't moved, either. Then you both become reliant on a projection for a cue. Ghosts of the living, all of us.

I have so many mirrors in the house most say I'm crazy! Yet even looking, pondering I still wonder How people actually See me.

Is it what I see in my own mirrors or a reflection I myself created?

Peace

reply to post by Aphorism


Very interesting S&F

Although I thought it would be more relatable to me & what I see.

Your's is more transcending

Mine began after I died for 5+ minutes early spring 2008.
In myself, I see like a veil of someone else ( Not only 1 but mainly 1 ) It is very difficult to explain.
I mainly see who/what, the veil of a pregnant, long blond wavy haired woman wearing a white sarong type long to the ankles dress? with a gold and silver braided rope on like an 8 only above and below the pregnant belly, sandals with mere leather bottoms but a smaller version of the same silver & gold braided rope from the sandals laced almost up to my knees. I see what looks like a crown made of Rowen flowers. My eyes look anxious & light blue, yet they ARE my own eyes. The name, ' Freya ' enters my mind. There are a few others, but mainly her. I do not look like that really, I've dark hair & dark green eyes.

To clarify, I look at my eldest daughter who will be 29 in July, I see her, but also a transparent Marilyn Monroe over her, almost like a ghost? I don't really know how to explain it. She DOES look quite a bit like her but as an English speaking Canadian from English speaking parent & Grand-Parents Austrian & French, the accent has always seemed out of place.

I look at my 28 year old cousin/flat mate and I see Jimmy Morrison like his shroud? most of the time. The tone & accent are the same, if shortened hair, also the same only Strawberry blond and light blue eyes.

The older they get, the more I see similar personality traits of Marilyn Monroe, ( Norma-Jeanne ), and more of Jimmy Morrison's traits in my cousin's personality even the same traits toward his music, even though a different genre.

Their voices are like their shrouds? My daughter's voice is like Marilyn Monroe but a Chicago or Brooklyn accent since she began talking in clearly formed words, phrases & sentences. Producers or w/e, for the Young and The Restless among others, have been wanting her in their series or movies since she was 15, & even now, that they even offered her husband whom she began dating at 15 & married at 20, leading along side her, roles. She made an odd statement to an older, kind of aged producer, " I told myself I'd live differently this time round." Almost like she knew him & with disgust in her expression.

My cousin's voice is the same as Jimmy Morrison's which other people have commented on, so he won't sing anything but roaring super thrash, grind core, metal, but yet doesn't seem to realize his more melodic rifts/guitar solos, on his guitar, without singing, are eerily like Jimmy Morrison's piano....melodic solos & style...Which others also comment on. He also said something odd to a famous band who wanted/wants him," I promised myself a healthier lifestyle than before."
It wasn't just myself who thought their statements eerily odd, but all others who heard them.

They both claim not having said those things despite so many heard them & say so, but at the same time, will say that those are how they feel though.

I see this kind of thing in many people, unknown or known, same as THEIR own, shroud? I've no idea how or whatever else to explain it. Not that many deceased stars, or people who were well known and with some, their personalities they show seem in stark contrast to their shrouds? though later, especially if they become inebriated, their personality traits then match their shrouds?

Or should I call them inner souls?
It is like a body inside an Aura that is someone elses......

I thought this was going to be the same type of thing but this thread is still awesome. ThankQ

reply to post by Aphorism


Are you the internal perception of you? Or the external one?

As another poster stated- you're perceiving the atoms that make you up. But what are your perceptions made of? And what controls them?

Is the sense of identity an illusion?

reply to post by PhotonEffect

Are you the internal perception of you? Or the external one?

They are one and the same.

As another poster stated- you're perceiving the atoms that make you up. But what are your perceptions made of? And what controls them?

Perceptions, like a backflip or sneezes, are not made of anything. They are actions performed.

Is the sense of identity an illusion?

No. As our only judge, we define ourselves.

do you like what you see?

internal or external?

when you look at yourself, do you think of how and what you would change, or do embrace it and accept yourself?

reply to post by jaheki

when you look at yourself, do you think of how and what you would change, or do embrace it and accept yourself?

I accept and embrace both what I am and what I could be.