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Broken Mirrors

Mirror

Yesterday I broke a mirror at work. I went to go put a dirty menu away in our coat check room and without noticing, I slid the mirror off the table it was on. The lights were off but as soon as I heard the shattering noise, I knew it sounded like something I was going to be picking up shortly.

As I bent down to start cleaning the mess I had just created, I started remembering of that old “breaking mirrors” superstition. As I gently picked up the bigger pieces first, I wondered if I could possibly be staring into 7 years of bad luck to come. I mean, I wouldn’t say I’ve been going through a bad luck streak lately because things have been pretty great, but for the last few weeks, I have been in a slump that I’ve been trying ever so desperately to get myself out of.

Before I was done picking up all of the bigger pieces, I heard someone say “Excuse me Miss…” It was one of our customers. I didn’t know his name but he was tall, impeccably dressed and had hair that reminded me of John Stamos circa “Full House”. For a moment I forgot all about the mirror on the floor and floated off to fantasy land. As I was halfway to a Caribbean destination with him in my daydream, he said: “My coat is right behind you. Would you mind passing it to me?” Sigh. That sobered me up real quick. So I passed him the coat and he left, but not before tipping me $3. I suppose that if none of my goals come true, I have a promising future in coat checking.

So I went back to picking up my mirror. I picked up every last piece, swept the floor and put the debris in a plastic bag and threw it in the garbage. I think what happened next is what therapists like to call “The Breakthrough”. I realized that some relationships are like broken glass, it’s better to leave them broken than to harm yourself putting them back together. Maybe that’s why I’ve been in this slump recently, I’m trying to mend what I can’t.
I went back to the hostess desk and quickly replayed what’s been going on in my life the last few weeks. Then and only then, was that I noticed that the worst moments in my slump were triggered by the same group of people. Now I realize that it’s time to cut ties. The last time I had an energy sucking vampire in my life, I cut her off and life has never been better. So why am I allowing others to merely substitute this person as the bane of my existence?

Enough.

My mother always says that when something around you breaks, it’s because it absorbed a negative energy that could’ve caused a greater harm later on. So maybe my broken mirror isn’t a sign of bad luck at all, maybe it’s a sign that I need to pick up the pieces to the relationships in my life and just do away with the rest. When you’re done trying to fix things, it’s best to just let go, regardless of how strong the bond was once upon a time. After all, even if you did succeed in putting the mirror back together again, you wouldn’t be able to see yourself as clearly as before, would you?

-Ori

Sex, Friends and the Shoes I Wore

If you know me, you know how much I love my shoes. They are a staple in my life and quite frankly, I think my friends should jump out of bushes and sit me down for an intervention every time I walk into a shoe store. However, As much as I love my ever growing shoe collection, this weekend as I was rearranging my closet, I stumbled onto a problem that I’ve never had before.

Have you ever loved something so much that reminded you of someone you hated? Ok, hate is a strong word; more like disliked, abhorred, despised…I’m sure you get my point by now. Well, it’s not so much that I hate anyone in my life, but many of the shoes that I came across in my closet this weekend did remind me of relationships that have gone south and people who have since been removed from my life. The worst part is, that the shoes that remind me of those people are actually some of my favorites.

I know that to many of you this problem seems trivial, but we all have certain things in our lives that we love and cherish, although they may not remind us of the best people or of the best times, but maybe just of the best memories we had at the time. For you, it may be a photograph that you hide, or a movie stub of a film you saw, which you might’ve hated but loved the person you went to go see the movie with. Or it could simply be a cologne or perfume, which you no longer like because it reminds you of a person who was once in your life, someone who’s not there now and you can no longer tolerate the scent, regardless of how delicious it may smell.

As often as I think of sex (and we know that’s way too often), this situation with my shoes gets even worse as many of the pairs I have were given to me by a few of my ex’s. I assure you that the last thing I need is to go on a hot date with an even hotter man and when he compliments my sexy pumps, I say: “Oh yeah, my ex and I had hot, sweaty, monkey sex in these” (Ok, I wouldn’t say that to begin with….at least not without four or five drinks in my system, but you know what I mean). The same thing applies when I’m sharing wonderful moments with my friends and the people I love and then I look down and see that the pair of stilettos on my feet were gifted by someone whom I can barely stand anymore. As much as I hate to admit it, I do become overwhelmingly melancholic when that realization happens.

It’s wonderful to hold onto a retentive memory. As humans, we feed off of that energy in order to cope and survive. But what happens when the memory you have isn’t necessarily a good one? And worse, what do you do when the thing that’s causing you to remember that hurtful memory is something you love? It’s hard to disassociate from a memory regardless of how hard we try. In some cases, it’s impossible and we never triumph in actually forgetting. But I’m slowly learning that maybe I can’t and shouldn’t be trying to forget those memories at all. Think about it: memories come from experience and experience is what makes us stronger, wiser and less likely to commit the same mistakes again.

So the next time I jump in my pumps, strap on my stilettos or parade in my peep-toes, I’ll remember that my shoes can only help me move into the future and not step back into my past and that’s where my memories, good or bad, should always remain.

-Ori