Mirrors

I realized as I walked Angel, no more than an hour ago at 7am, that, one, the morning is beautiful and that when I'm at guilford I'd like to do something of the such every morning. It was incredibly relaxing, and the squirrels seemed to be taken aback every time we passed by. They obviously were not used to any other companions save their ilk, the rabbits, and the birds, whom were creating quite the cacophony. 

And, two, it came to my attention, as I wandered near the park, that nearly all of my closest friends (indeed, the only people whom I would ever honestly call friends, though I have had many who believe themselves to hold the title) were reflections of myself in one way or another.

At first, I was saddened by the revelation. It was, to my mind, a form of narcissism and one of the biggest forms of self-centeredness I could've ever performed, whether subconsciously or not. But then it struck me, that perhaps my friends are indeed lessons unto me, in a subtle move by god. They reflect me, and through them I can more easily see my own flaws and failings, as I am wont to do as I contemplate their personalities. What's more, I believe that they show the paths and all the ways I would've been, had I been born into different circumstances.

There is Jacob, who would seem self-confident, but it is a rather transparent act to hide his insecurities, of which he has many. He acts out, and flirts, and speaks to everyone he can. He always apologized first, whenever we got into a disagreement, to try and maintain the peace, because I stoutly refused to. I was stubborn and blind. 

Early on in our friendship he pointed out that we butted heads so much because we were so alike. It took me until that moment to see that he was right. Still, of our similarities, I know the least. He was the one I spent the least amount of time with of the three, as he went away to college, and we scarcely see each other now.

Camille, whom I've known forever and a day. It was contemplation on her that lead me to this train of thought. I thought to myself, what if she and I are the same soul, split and given different circumstance, different paths? We aren't so different, she and I. I came to her, more bold, the leader, and she came to me, willing to be lead, passive and gentle.  Our physical, gross similarities are easy to count. We are both mixed children, both Filipina-American. We are both allergic to pet dander, both allergic to peanuts. Though I find that she suffers the least, and I believe that that's because her karma was better. 

We were both, early on, attracted to religion. She wanted to be nun, and I was easily infatuated with Eastern theology. Time passed, and things changed, and now her interest turns towards New Age beliefs, things she found she couldn't share with her current friends. It was by chance that she found out we both shared this.

We are probably not the same soul, as twins are sometimes said to be, but souls who've known each other before. Or, perhaps, we are all the same soul, split into so many different ways, and by the reflection of others we slowly unravel the problems of our own, until we may once again join together and be connected with the timeless, the endless, the eternal. 

I find, though, that she is the soul whom I most aspire to be, but without losing myself. After all, I know that amongst them all I have some wonderful traits, traits I must utilize to cut my path through the hardships of the world and to fulfill what I've been placed on earth to do, to serve and easy my karma and my god. 

I want her compassion, her patience, her inability to be riled or anger. I want her liquid love. It is a long, hard path. I will achieve. 

And, of course, there is Faye, whom regularly tells me 'we are the same person'. And to get to know us intimately, it is easy to see it's true. And it's her whom I spend most of my time and spill most of my thought, when I think of individual people. I think of her problems and her personality, her choices and the things she tells me, and I sit back and I wonder, 'why?'. More often than not, I find that some of her choices are choices that I would have made, not so long ago. They were problems I saw and resolved and stepped away from. I find, that out of all my friends and reflections, she has had it hardest. She has suffered the most, though we have all suffered, to some extent. I, perhaps, the least. I envy no one.

I believe that what mistakes she makes, she makes occasionally without knowing her own motivation behind it. Self-reflection is painful. But, I believe likewise that if she did turn inward and saw her motivation, as I'm sure she does, she would make the same choice regardless. 'Tis her way. However, I cannot pretend I know everything about her. I do not. There are many things I do not know, which she prefers to keep in. I learn them slowly. 

She and I are the closest reflections. Infinity mirrors. Have I known her before? Am I here to help her, is she here to help me? I hope that I am, and that I am helping her. I want to help her. We all need help. 

Slowly, I am changing. The hairline fractures slowly fade, and I am a little better, the picture a little clearer, the light comes in a little easier. It is a long, slow, arduous path. But I'm changing, I am changing. 

I hope we all change for the better.