man in the mirror

What Happens When You Stop Looking at Yourself

A trap or a starting point?

My wife and I spent a few months traveling Europe in our van in 2024. We had one mirror on board, small and retractable, and it barely got used. I’d flip it down to shave or put in my contacts, maybe twice a month. My wife used it even less.

I rarely thought about my appearance during that time. Between writing, working, hiking, upgrading the van and taking photos, my attention was usually somewhere else.

I’d think about a sentence I couldn’t get right, or the light on a trail I wanted to capture before it disappeared. I’d think about a client’s project or a strange noise coming from the engine. Some mornings, I woke up and had no idea what I looked like, and it didn’t cross my mind to check.

That’s what happens when you stop looking at yourself. Your attention doesn’t disappear. It just goes somewhere else.

The striking part is when we went back into a regular house.

Whenever we stayed with family or traveled without the van, we were suddenly surrounded by mirrors again. In the bathroom, the bedroom, the elevator, hotel lobbies and shopping malls. Within hours, I noticed myself looking into them without even realizing it.

Nothing about me had changed.

Only my environment had.

Every time that happened, I thought of something Fernando Pessoa once wrote.

“Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face. There’s nothing more sinister. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.”

The first time I read those words, they sounded ridiculous.

Now I’m not so sure.

Michael Jackson had a different read on the same object. “Man in the Mirror” was reportedly his favorite of his own songs, and its argument is the opposite of Pessoa’s. Look at your reflection not to admire it, but to change what needs changing. The man in the mirror isn’t just an image. He’s the one you’re accountable to.

Both men were talking about the same glass. One saw a trap. The other saw a starting point.

Vanity didn’t begin with the mirror. Humans have always cared about beauty and compared themselves to one another.

But the mirror changed our relationship with ourselves.

Before mirrors became common, the closest thing people had to a reflection was still water. Lakes, ponds and quiet rivers occasionally revealed a face looking back. The experience was fleeting. A ripple or a gust of wind was enough to erase it.

Even today, that’s usually how I see myself while hiking. Sometimes my reflection appears in a calm lake or a stream. I notice it for a second, then keep walking.

Water reflects.

It doesn’t invite inspection.

The mirror does.

For the first time, people could study themselves whenever they wanted. Every wrinkle, every expression and every imperfection became something to examine. Our face slowly stopped being something other people recognized and became something we managed.

Then the mirror evolved.

Today, it fits inside our pockets.

Every smartphone is a portable mirror. Every front-facing camera gives us another opportunity to check ourselves. Social media takes it one step further. It doesn’t simply encourage us to look at ourselves. It encourages us to compare ourselves.

The question quietly changes.

Not what am I doing?

But how do I look doing it?

Experiences become performances.

A meal becomes a photograph before it becomes lunch.

A mountain becomes a backdrop before it becomes a destination.

A sunset becomes content before it becomes a memory.

The image slowly replaces the experience.

The myth of Narcissus wasn’t really about self-love. It was about confusing reality with its reflection.

Perhaps we’ve built an entire culture around that confusion.

Capitalism couldn’t have asked for a better invention than the smartphone. A device that constantly reminds people they are incomplete is also a device that constantly sells solutions.

You don’t like your skin? Buy this.

Your clothes? Replace them.

Your face? Filter it.

Your life? Compare it to someone else’s until it feels inadequate.

The reflection no longer shows who we are. It tells us who we should become. We look to it for answers, but all it gives us back is a question.

I don’t think mirrors are the enemy. They help us shave, treat a cut or make sure there’s nothing in our teeth. Like every tool, they have a purpose.

The problem begins when they stop serving us and begin shaping us.

Living in the van hadn’t made me immune to vanity. It had simply removed thousands of small reminders to think about myself.

Returning to a conventional home reminds me how unusual that has become.

Modern life is designed to redirect our attention back toward ourselves. Not just through mirrors, but through advertisements, cameras, screens and algorithms that constantly ask the same question:

How do you look?

Far fewer things ask a more important one.

What are you paying attention to?

Maybe that’s why nature feels so restorative.

The forest doesn’t care what I’m wearing.

The mountains aren’t impressed by beauty.

A lake reflects my face for a moment before the wind carries it away.

Nature never asks me to perform.

It simply asks me to be present.

That’s the gift a mirror can’t give.

Pessoa was probably exaggerating.

The inventor of the mirror didn’t poison the human heart.

But he may have started a process that eventually led us here.

A civilization that spends more time looking at itself than at the world eventually mistakes appearance for reality.

Teekay

Minimalism: removing things that remove you from your life

From 51 pairs of shoes to fewer than 40 clothing items in total

How many pairs of shoes do you own?

I used to own 51. That’s a lot of footprint before I’d taken a single step.

Today my entire wardrobe, shoes included, comes in under 40 items. My life didn’t shrink. It got bigger.

It started one morning. I woke up, looked around and realized I never wore most of my shoes. They no longer fit. Not my feet. My life.

Some designs were out of fashion, some matched nothing I owned anymore and some came from brands I’d boycotted.

I sold a few, because I needed the money and they were classics. The rest I gave away.

People call this minimalism. I never thought the word hit hard enough. It sounds like a look, white walls and a lone plant. But you can empty an apartment and refill it every season.

I wasn’t chasing a look. Everything I owned went on trial, and one question decided the verdict. What does this cost me and the planet? Whatever couldn’t plead its case left. That’s what I call essentialism.

So I own the essentials and nothing extra. When I need something, I buy it second hand or I buy it built to last. I repair what breaks and repurpose what can’t be fixed. Quality costs more up front and less over time, so frugal and eco-friendly end up on the same side.

I still own stuff. I’m not claiming a perfect score. I just make every piece earn its place.

Every purchase is a vote and so is every refusal. Buy less and the market shrinks. Buy better and it rewires. Some companies will close and others will learn to build things that last.

It worked before. In 1988 a coalition of environmental groups called for a boycott of the tuna companies. In April 1990 StarKist, the world’s largest canner, announced it would stop buying tuna caught along with dolphins. The industry followed. By November Congress had written the label into law. Buyers moved first and the law made it stick.

But markets answer to profit first. Every market runs on rules, and the only question is who writes them. So we also need laws. Ban planned obsolescence. Make repair the default. Buyers who change their habits are the ones with the leverage to demand them.

One person can’t do that alone, but one person can be the first of many. I believe in the power of the individual, and I know it multiplies when others follow.

It also helps to have the money to buy well, so that power isn’t spread evenly. I’m not selling a cure. I’m describing what I can control, and asking you to help me ask for the rest.

What I don’t spend on things goes to experiences and charity. Board games. Bowling with friends. Sports. Volunteering. Every week. Memories don’t need a closet.

I do still travel, but slowly. I pack light and stay long, because a flight can cost the planet more than a closet ever did. Travel isn’t the point, and I’m not selling it.

Owning less quieted my head too. Less stuff means less to maintain and less to worry about. I started out running from a stressful, expensive way of living. I found a calmer version of myself instead.

I’m not there yet. Excellence is a religious principle for me, and so is adding value to other people’s lives. Owning less leaves more time and money to give.

Turns out the best way to leave a smaller footprint is to own fewer shoes.

Teekay