By: James Kyle
He did
not want to move. He did not want to be here. But he did not want to move. He
was afraid to move.
He had
to do something. Slowly, hesitantly, he looked around one more time. He was
completely surrounded by mirrors. He looked into the mirror ahead of him. Was
it a wall? Or a corridor that he could move into? He peered forward into the
potential corridor, into one potential future. If he decided to move. If it was
a way forward. It looked like a passageway, but was it
just a reflection of where he had come from? Was he just being caught endlessly
repeating his own past? Did he ever move forward?
Why
was he here? He hated it here. He looked into the mirror ahead of him. He saw
his own tormented face staring back. And behind the first anguished face there
was another, and then another, and another. His entire world consisted of never
ending images of reflected pain and suffering.
His
head slumped and he began to cry. The tears in the mirror below climbing up to
splash in perfect unison with the ones rolling down and falling off his cheeks.
Splashing tears creating pools of sorrow, over and over again. The falling
tears counted off seconds which became minutes, then hours, then days. Days
without end.
He did
not want to be here. This was a wretched place to be. He had to escape.
He ran
ahead into the mirrored corridor. And he ran, and he ran, turning one corner
after another. As he did so, many emotions came and went, excitement,
anxiousness, fear, anticipation, frustration, elation, anger, hope. Hope that
around the next corner he would find freedom. Perhaps this corner here.
But
wait, what is this on the ground? A pool of tears. His tears. The tears he had
being trying to run away from. It was true. There was no way out.
Finally,
in this abyss of hopelessness he surrendered to his fate. He let go of all
attachment to escaping this reality. He prepared himself for the despair to
deepen, for the pain to get worse, for the futility to overwhelm him.
He
waited. And then waited some more. But the expected heaviness did not intensify. In fact - he felt better,
lighter. What had happened? He waited once more. And a word came unbidden into his
mind. Acceptance.
He
looked into the mirror ahead of him. He was surprised to see his own face
smiling back. And behind the first joyful face there was another, and then
another, and another. His entire world consisted of never ending images of
reflected joy and contentment.
He did
not need to move. This was a good place to be.
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