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I have a mirror hanging in my bedroom that is just big enough to reflect my narcissistic head. It is situated in such a location that I have the opportunity to look myself in the eyes each time I walk to my nightstand or get into bed. Taped to the top perimeter of the mirror's wooden frame is a rose with a pale blue ribbon tied up in a bow. Sometimes I forgo my narcissism to muse about the rose as I pass. This is no ordinary rose display. Rather, this rose has been dead for many years and it's age is quite evident: only a few dirty yellow petals cling to the shriveled brown stem. But, I love my rose. I find it a wonderful reminder of the natural cycle of life and death. Each time I accidentally bump off a brittle petal I think about the rose in the Disney classic, Beauty and the Beast. If you recall, a witch put the Beast and his castle under a spell that would only be broken if the Beast learned to love and found someone to love him back before the last petal fell from the dying rose. My rose is not magical, but the slow deterioration it succumbs to works just as perfectly to remind me that I need to live a fulfilling life before my time on Earth is up.

I have two picture frames hanging on the wall next to my mirror. After looking at myself or the rose, my eyes shift to a photo of some of my best friends. This picture brings to mind good times spent together and things I have learned from them. The next photo my eyes come to is of myself. Oh yes, narcissism at its best. It is one of my favorite senior year of high school professional photos. When I look into my photographed eyes, I have thoughts of what that younger version of me is thinking. She asks me questions like, “Do you like who you saw in the mirror?” and “Are you who you want to be?”. And she reassures me, “I trust you to make me proud.”

I like walking past this succession of images. They challenge and encourage me daily. And what happens when the last rose petal falls? Well, hopefully I will have learned to love and found someone to love me back.