Wrapped in a towel, dripping wet from a shower, looking in the bathroom mirror, I notice the curly strands of my afro springing as they do when freshly washed, the scar on my left shoulder reddened from my incessant agitation, and the tattoos on my chest making one of their two daily appearances. There's a little booger on the inside of my nose ring, and the hair on my face is made especially apparent from its wetness. I notice the scarring along my cheek and chin from years of habitual tweezing. I count four shades of unevenly distributed brown and think to myself things like:
"I have to stop showering in those cheap earrings."
"Drinking water is paying off."
"Where is my witch hazel?"
I'm standing here, taking all of me in, when I hear the words that I've heard so many times, clear, forceful, and accosting as they always are. This time, however, it was your voice, and I realize I was not the originator of those thoughts. I don't have to accept and house your words. Your voice fades, diminished by my rejection, and my mirror observations continue...
I smile.
"There is nothing more important to true growth than realizing that you are not the voice of the mind - you are the one who hears it." -Michael A. Singer
