I don’t think that anyone really likes looking in mirrors.
Regardless of how much of a narcissist we may be, I think that we always find something lacking. There is some imperfection that our eyes immediately zoom in on. There’s that hair I missed while shaving this morning. And, damn! it’s right under my nose! Or, that zit that appeared in the last five minutes. Or, there’s a new wrinkle.
And, yet, we must look at ourselves in order to view these things. How can I get rid of that hair if I don’t see it? Yeah, riddle me that!
Oh, I suppose I could not look and wonder why when people look at me their eyes are drawn to that spot on my face that’s growing an oak tree sized hair. Of course, they would be too polite to say anything. The hair would remain until I could see it in a reflection of some sort, whether a mirror or Narcissus’ pool. Then, I could shave it off and all would be well again.
There are other kinds of reflections that we don’t like to see.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of visiting with our parish priest and his husband as they opened their home to us. They provided food and good hospitality. Many from the parish stopped in to visit share our time and lives, however briefly, with one another.
As I sat, munching on some really good food, (thanx Rob!), I listened to various conversations. People talked about art and ballet, restaurants and theater. They shared about their kids and their homes. They laughed and joked about high prices and low values. It was a typical gathering of folks living in middle-class America.
And, I felt hopelessly out of place.
It’s not because I don’t live a privileged life. I do.
Nor do I begrudge these others their good fortune. I don’t.
However, there’s no way that I can relate to them.
I’m from a different era than most of these.
While my parents tried to keep up with the Joneses, I am a child of the 60s. We had an idealism that pretty much abandoned that whole race of the rodents. And, it seems 50 years on I still hold to some of that old idealism.
But, there is a part of me that would really, really like to be able to afford tickets to Broadway plays or to travel in order to see some exhibit of art or ballet.
The bottom line is, though, my wife and I simply can’t do those things.
Especially now that I’m looking at retirement. There are limits, some of them pretty constricting, to what we are able to do.
That leads me to my confession.
Envy.
Yep, that Green Eyed creature that lurks in the blackness of want and desire.
While I would really like to think of myself as above such material things that these other folks were talking about, I’m not. Don’t think ill of me. I’m just a guy who struggles with the whole being human thing.
So why is this an issue?
My envy belies something that is deeper than just desire.
It reveals a feeling of entitlement and superiority.
I am exposed as someone common and vulgar.
Envy shows me that I am still attached to stuff.
There are still gods and idols that my heart and mind bow to that are not worthy of my attention. Yet, they snatch and grab at me. My eyes become averted from the overwhelming blessings that I have received and focus on what I don’t.
That’s why it’s an issue.
I looked in the mirror and saw envy staring back at me.
Hopefully, now that I see it I can cut it off.