Most mornings, we meet our own face for a few seconds: to brush our teeth, check our hair, look for whatever's wrong. Then we turn away.
Rembrandt kept looking.
A face, painted for a lifetime
Over about forty years, Rembrandt van Rijn made nearly a hundred self-portraits in paint, etching and drawing. The young man pulling faces, the prosperous artist in fur and gold chains, the older man after bankruptcy. He never seems to be flattering himself, or punishing himself either. Only looking, as honestly as he could.
In this one, painted in 1660, he's in his mid-fifties, in a white cap and a worn coat, holding his palette and brushes. The light falls on his face and nothing else. He looks straight back at us.
Rembrandt van Rijn, Self-Portrait at the Easel, 1660. Musée du Louvre, Paris
Who's looking at whom?
I first came across a mirror exercise years ago, in a book by Osho. The idea is simple and a little strange: we give energy to whatever we look at. So for a few breaths, reverse it. Let your reflection look at you.
The practice
Stand or sit in front of a mirror in good, soft light. If at any moment it feels uncomfortable, look away, breathe, and come back only if you want to.
- Take a few full breaths. Fill your belly, then your ribs, then your chest. Let them empty in the same order.
- Look at your face. Let your eyes move around it without judging: no "I like this", no "I don't". Just shapes, colours, light.
- Rest your gaze on your eyes for a couple of breaths.
- Now reverse the perspective. Feel that it's your reflection looking at you. Stay with it for five breaths.
- Switch again: you're the one looking. Stay. Let feelings come, and let thoughts go.
- Close your eyes and see your reflection in your mind until it fades. Sit in that silence for a moment.
- Open your eyes and look once more. Think one kind thought, about your face, your character, or anything at all, as long as it's kind.
Rembrandt didn't look at himself to become someone else. He looked to see who was there. (If portraits and honesty interest you, try these Dorian Gray journal prompts, or read why portraits were lying long before filters.)
A gentle place to begin
The First Letter is a short sensory meditation on receiving a letter, with a sample of our magazine "(meditating) On Art". It's free, and it's a kind thing to give yourself.
Remember to take as much time as you need, and meet me at the next one.
Love, Evi