Funhouse Mirrors

How do you see yourself? I don’t mean, what do you look like. How do you see yourself? Like, what do you think people see when you’re walking through a store? Or how does your significant other, kids, friends, and coworkers see you?

I laugh sometimes thinking about my kids. I know Gabby and Joe see themselves much differently than I see them. They’re energetic self-sufficient adults that believe they’re indestructible. (Evidenced by traveling the world… falling out of airplanes….and generally doing things that make me squint and stick my fingers in my ears when they talk about life’s adventures that don’t fit my dad constructs.) I get it. I was the same way at their age. But this is the way I see them.

So it makes me wonder how people see me. Most of the time I feel like the Invisible Man, that is until someone needs me to kill a bug, move something with my truck, or meet a ridiculous delivery timeline at work.

I’m not complaining. I think it’s the natural progression of life. Call it “the success of stability” or maybe “the stability of success.” After all, it’s really been my goal to keep life running as smoothly as possible with the fewest peaks and valleys. (I’m not a roller coaster guy.) And nothing screams success more than the smooth flat road of invisibility!

I remember how I saw my dad – a giant – bigger than life. Even when I carried his frail body in my arms in his final hours, I was five years old and he was a superhero, coaxing me to squash tiny red spiders on our porch with my thumb.

We’ve been conditioned to accept appearance as what we see in a mirror. But I’ve come to realize that mirrors are, in reality, carnival mirrors that distort our personal reflection. It’s like seeing a picture of yourself and thinking, “Man, I have to do some sit ups… and wear a hat! And since when do I have a lazy eye!” That has to be why women of all ages ask, “do I look good in this?” Of course they do but their funhouse mirror reflection has them long-necked and short-legged, looking more like an ET than the beauty that everyone else sees.

Maybe it’s some horror event from the past that taints our self perception: One that twists what others see as unremarkable normalcy to circus freak. I had a friend in college that had all the fresh Barbie doll cuteness of a college coed but for some reason saw herself as a snot goblin. Before every class she would panic-whisper, “Hey! Do I have anything comin’ outta my nose?” and toss her head back flaring her nostrils. Of course I always responded with something like, “GOD ALMIGHTY! ARE YOU HARD OF FEELING? IT’S LIKE YOU HAVE A CORN FLAKE WEDGED IN THERE!” I’d glance over and see her the rest of the class period self consciously touching her nose. She’d catch me smiling and make a face… or an “unhappy” finger gesture…

Come to think of it, I had a college professor that nervously checked his zipper constantly during lecture. It got to be a counting game with a group of us. As we left the lecture hall I would hear classmates say, “66”…. “61”….. “63”…. You just know there had to be a humiliating barn door exhibition somewhere in that poor guy’s past that turned him into a compulsive zipper-checker.

But then there are the few too comfortable people (that have no reason to be). The ones in restaurants that scream-talk and laugh loudly to draw attention to themselves. Or the semi-buff post-teen men-children at the gym that become self-mesmerized every time they walk past a mirror, slowly side-glancing the shadowing gladiator that has paused to stare back.

Somewhere between funhouse mirror distortion and self-absorbed gym rat lies reality. Unfortunately we’ve become dependent on others to validate our visibility, probably because our invisibility is more often validated! I’m going to start making a conscious effort at making everyone around me more visible. I don’t mean looking for missed belt loops or tooth-lettuce. I mean a blaze orange “I SEE YOU! recognition of human visibility rather than the societal camouflage that has been enhanced by digital barriers. Even if it means just a smile… a second longer eye contact… a random “hello.”