the gazing mirror

She looked up. She could finally hold her own gaze in the mirror.

For years, she had refrained to look. To really look and watch. To look, to watch and to see her entire being. She will look at the pimple appearing in the eyebrow; she would look to her teeth to see if they were white enough; she would look at her hair to check it was not sticking up. But she would not look at her entire reflection.

Upon holding her gaze, she looked again. She liked what she saw.

She saw a pair of amazing honey-coloured eyes under dark-as-night eyebrows. She saw a mesmerizing smile – one capable of melting away fears and unwanted thoughts. She saw strong shoulders and a pair of small round breasts, that despite the pregnancies were still firm(ish). She saw a tiny waist and perfect legs.

She has always been like that. I know. I have seen her. I have. I have seen a determined woman wishing to be happy. Trying to be happy by all possible means. Trying to put painful memories away. Tucked away under her permanent frown. I have been lucky to count her as my friend. One of those five women that make my life complete.

She finally saw herself and liked what she saw. I have always liked what I saw.

That specific day, she was on her way out to quit one of the five jobs she had when she stopped and held her gaze in the mirror. She juggled five jobs to keep her busy and to hold her away from life. She quit the fourth and the third, too.

She has ups and downs. I have ups and downs, too. Everyone has. One can blame those up-and-downs to the thyroid if that is one’s wish. I just know that ups and downs are what make me feel alive.

She walked out of the door. She did not slam it as she did yesterday. She closed it gently, locked it and went downstairs. The fresh spring breeze greeted her and the sun danced in her golden locks. The honey-coloured eyes turned amber and the frown converted into a smile. She was determined to be happy. I knew that. I could sense it.

She opened the car door, put the seat belt on and tuned the radio. Upbeat dancing music to choreograph her route as she dodged the morning traffic. She saw her now amber-coloured eyes in the rear view mirror. She recognised them as her own and smiled. I have seen those eyes turning from honey, to amber to green. Those amazing eyes. I like those eyes.

She said hello to the next door neighbour who grunted in return and took off. Humming to herself. She had left her cell phone at home. She did it deliberately. She did not want to have the burden of connectivity. To reach within herself she did not need a 3G connection. She just needed to be at peace with herself. She is starting to be at peace. I know. Sometimes she loses her North and a frown sets in her forehead – again. It does not last. It should not last. I know. I have been there. I have been there myself.

Happiness is letting go. Letting go of attachment. Letting go of the need. The need to rely on something to be happy. Happiness is not attached on things. Material things. It is attached to oneself.

She is letting herself free of attachment. That attachment. The one that made her believe that she could make others happy by sacrificing her own happiness. Now she knows better.

The journey has just started but she’s got a stronghold. I know. I have been there myself.

[this entry was updated to include the music link on 11 August 2018, Mandorah, Northern Territory, Australia]