While overthinking receives attention from those it torments, the routinized thoughts we ignore create silent blind spots influencing our lives. 

Freud told us love and work were the dominant concerns, the ones leading us to fulfillment or its lack.

One might add something to his idea.

Think of money, family relationships, and looking in the mirror.

The last of these is quieter than the first two. It is unlike those found in paychecks, on balance sheets, or the cash in our pockets. Nor does it occupy the emotive face of our child or spouse—their raised voices or weeping.

The silvered glass holding our reflection is everywhere. Indeed, the shop windows we turn toward offer a substitute opportunity to glimpse oneself. Such interruptions, whatever they may accomplish, are often intended by the passersby to obtain a momentary account of their appearance.

One might fantasize that such mirrored and windowed feedback is in the hands of two creatures who control the reflection.

The first asks the never-ending question of how we appear relative to how we hope to have fashioned ourselves. Insecurity plays a part, and the image can amplify this by providing an unpredictable, undependable, imperfect version of our exterior.

The second entity is the true mistress of the mirrors. Truth resides within her, a commodity hard to find anywhere these days. You’ve seen the movie version:

Time finds its way into our looking glass, too. It whispers its reminder that the bloom of youth has departed. 

Life is odd. Moment attaches to moment in an unstoppable quasi-livestream slipping away from us. The mirrors await our presence even then; our heightening concern over the show we present to the world prevents us from leaving these objects alone.

We lose Time, we waste Time, we want injections to defeat Time, and surgeons will help if they can.

We take Time, but Time takes us over, luring our attention to the audience’s judgment of our appearance. That is, of course, until we become invisible—just another humanoid who blends into the crowd.

Before long, those around us stand out, not the striking, handsome, superior visage we once offered them.

Back home, both men and women are drawn to their image, housed in the rectangular object above their washroom sink. Selfies and Zoom meetings steer our eyes to pixels calling our name. 

No day goes by without looking, peering, putting on creams and sunscreens while arranging our hair, and finding clothes to complement everything above the neck.

Below, too.

Best we accept aging and appearance as beyond full control: the clock and the calendar win in the end.

Intelligence and wit remain present when we come to terms with the changes Time brings. Friends often appreciate you because of your decency, kindness, generosity, wisdom, wit, and tender understanding.

Some of them will treasure that you “see them,” recognizing the preciousness of such an extraordinary gift, and your receptivity to their whole being.

Eyes wait for us to direct them toward the people we love, the hearts within them, and the beauty of their souls.

Freud was right about the significance of love and work. 

But do add this, as Shakespeare put it:

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.

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The Mirror Baby was sourced from Wikimedia Commons. It is the work of roseoftimothywoods.