I stumbled into the bathroom this morning, drunk from a restless sleep the night before. I walked gingerly across the cold, wood floors.
Image by © Royalty-Free/Corbis
I rubbed the crust from my eyes and take a look in the mirror for what seemed like the first time. What I saw caught me by surprise…
There was a middle-aged man staring back at me.
Who is this guy? I think to myself as I rub my eyes again. Maybe I’m
dreaming. I look again and this dude is still there. He has a full, round face. Gray hair growing in his mustache and the stubble of a beard grown overnight. He is in decent shape for the most part with the exception of the spare tire wrapped around his mid-section. His receding hairline is beginning to show as his normally clean-shaven head begins to fill in again.
I stare at this aging man for more than a minute. I slowly realize that I am looking at my reflection.
This isn’t the man I know. The Me in me see a younger, thinner man. He sees a man full of energy. The Me in me see life as full of possibilities even as he draws closer to the second half of his life. The Me in me believes that he can still run with twenty-year old boys up and down a basketball court. He believes at he can still play football with his kids in the backyard. The Me in me believes, despite an ankle injury a couple of years back, believes he can still do a number on the skating rink. He believes that if he works really hard, he can still do many of the things that he used to.
The Me in the Mirror seems to contradict the Me in me. He scoffs at the idea that I can still run with the big dogs. He tells me that I am silly for believing that I can still indulge in the ways of my youth. He tells me that being young isn’t all that its cracked up to be. After all, this spare tire was acquired during the sins of your youth.
I’m not dead I tell the Me in the Mirror. The Me in me doesn’t yearn to be young again. I recognize that with age comes wisdom and growth. The Me in me has gained an introspect that the Me of my youth did not have. The Me in me makes far fewer stupid mistakes than the Me of my youth.
I begin to reconcile the fact that the Me in the Mirror is me. He is the physical manifestation of what the world sees. The Me in me is the man that my friends see, my family loves, and my colleagues respect. He sees the Me of his youth in the fresh faces of his children. While the body may be aging, my mind remains fresh and vibrant. The Me in me is a father and husband who works hard to be there for his family even when he physically isn’t present. Where physical prowess once carried the day, his will and determination drives him now. Once he was dependent on the strength of his body, believing in his own immortality. Now, the Me in me is dependent on the strength of my faith and The One who is truly immortal.
The Me in Me is the Me I see in the mirror after all.
Mr. Man
