THE STRENGTH OF FRAGILITY
This morning, as I was getting ready to shave, as I do every day, I “saw” myself in the mirror. Surprised by the slightly familiar face leaning toward me, as if trying to examine me closely, I focused on the details that defined it: the scar beside the eyelid, the new patches without hair, the latest furrows carved into the skin. Little by little, I began to reassemble the pieces of my own life story that explain the appearance of this “new me” that is gradually replacing the “old me.” It took me a while to recognize myself. And to accept myself as I am, I first had to persuade my critical mind, determined to deny the evidence of time passing and demanding convincing answers to questions that are almost impossible to satisfy: Why am I who I am? Why do the things that happen to me happen? Why haven’t I achieved what I wanted? What am I still missing? Why haven’t I managed to become more…? Questions that feel like a final exam with no chance of retaking it. I felt like an old objec...