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In October, my father was niftar (passed away). Sitting shiva is part of Jewish mourning rituals, where the immediate family members of the deceased sit on low stools, rip their clothes, and mourn for a week.
In October, my father was niftar (passed away). Sitting shiva is part of Jewish mourning rituals, where the immediate family members of the deceased sit on low stools, rip their clothes, and mourn for a week.
Another part of shiva is
covering all the mirrors in the house. One reason given for this custom is so
that mourners are focused on grieving and not on their appearance. Another is
because it is forbidden for mirrors to be in a place of prayer, where we should
focus on God and not the appearances of humyn beings. Frankly, it’s a blessing
that you can’t see yourself during shiva, since you’re also to allowed
to shower, shave, or do much in the way of hygiene.
To be honest, it was amazing how
empowered I felt sans mirrors. I’ve read about women who have done campaigns
where they avoid looking into mirrors for a specific amount of time, and I’ve
even considered doing something like it, but I just found it impossible.
Ignoring the mirrors that hang in my bathroom and by my bed, they’re just about
everywhere in the public world. There are huge ones above the sinks in every
bathroom at my school. A building I pass as I walk to and from school is made
out of reflective glass. Every public bathroom has mirrors. How could I avoid
these mirrors on a regular basis?
But during shiva, I didn’t
have this problem. Confined to the four walls of my home with covered mirrors,
I felt AMAZING. Even though I knew I looked horrible by any societal standards in
my unwashed, unshaved, and greasy state, it really didn’t bother me. If I had
been exposed to reflective surfaces, however, I know I would have been messing
with my hair in useless attempts to make it look less limp, staring at my skin
and fretting about the surfacing pimples, and generally brooding over my lackluster
appearance. Without mirrors around, I wasn’t physically capable of caring about
how I looked, because I couldn’t actually see how I looked. Instead of worrying
about my appearance and how I was presenting myself, I could focus on shiva
and the people around me so much better.
Although I appreciated my Week of
No Mirrors, the shiva period has been over for a while and I’m back in
the real world, again surrounded by reflective surfaces. Although my
self-esteem and confidence in my appearance was never abnormally low, I think
you’d be hard-pressed to find a Western girl who’s completely and totally
satisfied with every aspect of how she looks. I’m no exception to this rule.
It’s really a pathetic statement
about our society that the only way a girl can feel good about herself is when
there are no mirrors around. I know I shouldn’t generalize my own feelings as
those of every other Western girl, but based on statistical and anecdotal
evidence, I don’t think my own attitudes aren’t too unusual. So it’s just completely
and totally messed up how obsessed we all are about how we look. Why should I
care? Who am I trying to impress? And yet, I do care, and apparently am trying
to impress somebody.
As much as I may dislike mirrors,
they’re a reality I’ll have to face. I certainly hope my daughters and their friends will not feel as self-conscious as me and my generation, and that they do not have to grapple with looking into mirrors the way that I have.
Are you familiar with "mirror fasts?"
ReplyDeletehttp://www.the-beheld.com/p/month-without-mirrors.html
I've read about them before. But alas...not so practical for me.
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