When something goes wrong, I turn the mirror on myself. What did I do, what can I learn, what’s mine to own. Most of the time this serves me. But when I’m not understood by someone, the same practice betrays me. I only know my story – not what they perceived happened, not the story they live inside. The mirror only reflects what is known to me. The failure is believing the mirror was reality.
The quiet days don’t count themselves
My dog gets attention when she’s doing the wrong thing. This trains her that doing right things isn’t worth being seen for. I do it to myself too. The days I don’t produce don’t register. I only count when I’m fixing.
Seeing it is sometimes enough
I don’t always know what to do with what I notice about myself. But sometimes just seeing and naming the thing helps. Not every insight requires action. Sometimes the awareness is the action.