A face made of faces

This morning, as I sat trying to practice silence, whispering just “I am,” in my mind’s eye I saw a mirror. It became the only mirror I have and in which I see myself daily – my bathroom mirror. I stood before it slowly saying “I am.” I saw one image – mine – but I heard two voices. God, the Great ‘I am’, seeing me see myself, and me seeing God see me (which is the only way anyone sees God). My “I am” inside of his, his present in mine.

Then my image in the mirror began to change. The ‘I’ gazing at the mirror didn’t change. That remained just me, as I am. Only my image in the mirror began to change, eventually becoming everyone, everywhere. All persons were my image. My reflection spun through every type of face – every gender, every race, every age from childhood to the very old, from the sick to the healthy, the happy and the sad, those comfortable and those suffering – every human being was in the image, or rather was my image.

As this reflection constantly transfigured between the faces of all persons, it nevertheless remained a single face, and the voice, though singular, was at the same time a cacophony of distinct voices all saying “I am” – a face made of faces, a voice comprising voices – in me, as me.