What was the human image before mirrors? How did we define ourselves– give meaning to our beauty and gratification to our instincts?

When you look in the mirror, what is it you see? Is it the ghost of yourself or an apparition of something long gone?

I cannot look into the mirror and see what you see when you look at me. I only see my projection, my image scintillate.

 This image is so subjective. It does not tell truth, only partial truths. Like who you are and how you’ve come. Like what you want and how you’ll get it. Like imperfection. Like grace. Like divine imprinting.

When what is inside shines through the glass, will it break?