Puddle, Puddle, On The Ground: Who's The Fairest One Around?

I went swimming today. Well, my shoes did anyway. My poor Diesels swam through lakes of melting snow, turned from treacherous ice to puddles of slush by the warmth of the sun. Because of this, my perspective of the city has recently been narrowed to a view of my feet as I navigate the slippery streets.



As I voyaged through and around the reflective surfaces of such puddles, I became more attentive of the architecture in the surrounding roofs. These puddle images made me wonder: what would a reflection of my soul show?

Would it be possible to see beyond the ripples started by my tears? Would there be sunshine of joy streaming through my sorrow, from my saving source of sacrificial love? Does a soul even reflect one's mood and feelings? Furthermore, are the connections of relationships, in which we place so much importance and value, visible in our souls?

I'd like to believe that others have made a deep enough impact in my life to be seen in my reflected soul. I regret that some have left scars. How would such scars visually effect one's soul? Are they a Do Not Enter sign? I'd hope that I have affected other's lives in a positive manner so as not to leave scars of pain but rather shimmers of hope and love upon their reflected souls.

At first I visualized these relational reflections as separate doors along a hallway of time. Each door displaying a name plaque; some covered in dust, some proudly polished to shine, and others gouged beyond recognition with intentions of forgetting. But then I realized that even in reflections, relationships cannot be categorized into rooms contained with a door. For I have often tried to close and lock a door, to forget the existence of the soul concealed beyond that destroyed nameplate, only to have that soul, that memory, that mistake haunt me as a ghost.

Since souls are so intricately interconnected, I soon replaced my door analogy for another. Just as the puddles I waded through all day reflect the buildings which have windows which reflect people, so too I think would a reflection of our souls contain other reflected images. Images of other's souls. And now I'm lead to imagine a fun house of mirrors which lead one through a maze often paralleled with life in which there are dark corners reflecting reminders of our darkest fears - our mistakes, amusing distractions reflecting this fallen world in which we live, and the unmistakable sunlight signaling the fun house exit reflecting the hope of the light of the world carried always in my soul.