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“I know You”
On the Wisdom of The Man in the Glass
Forgive my delay, friends. I have been busy with what the Swedes call döstädning. Life is unpredictable; we believe subconsciously that we will live forever and block out reality. That’s until one gets a fatal diagnosis It makes one conscious of how life can take its turns. So, it is good to ponder where we are in life and value our days. In harmony with these thoughts, I read this poem early this morning and thought I could share some highlights about it.
In our time, mirrors are everywhere, on our walls, in our pockets, on our screens, on shop windows and restrooms. it’s strange how rarely we stop and really look. Not at the face we show the world. Not the rehearsed smile. But the real face, the one that speaks only in silence when the lights are off, and the room is quiet, and you are laying there with yourself and your thoughts. I don’t think the poem is public domain, but there are copies online.
It’s called The Man in the Glass, written a century ago by Dale Wimbrow. I invite you to read it. Not because it’s fashionable or trending. But because it tells a universal truth that will always be relevant, even in this modern high-tech world. And especially in this modern world where the so-called Enlightenment has driven humankind towards self-worship and me-ism.
“You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.”
We can charm others. We can dress ourselves to shine in company. But none of that will save us from the ache that comes from betraying ourselves.
This is also why it's wise not to get into conflicts with those who hide their true self. If we know they are lying and yet deny it, well, they have to face themselves.
Because there is always someone watching—you, me.
We know when we’ve lied. We know when we’ve compromised.
You know when we’ve hidden our better selves in exchange for acceptance, applause, or advantage.
And that knowing, the voice of our conscience, is what this poem holds up to the light. Not to condemn, but as a friend calling you home.
Image is everything today in a society that worships “I” and “Me.” But image is not reality. It’s a poor player for self. The substance of reality doesn’t care how many followers one has. He—or she—only cares whether you’ve lived truthfully.
Have we spoken what we believed, even when it’s costly? Have we treated fellow humans with dignity when no one was there to give us an upvote? Have we said no to cheating, and dishonesty.
Others will not see the inner self. But we will. And so will God. “I know you” God says in Psalm 139.
I write this blog, not to finger point. I have committed violations of self. But there is hope. It’s never too late to befriend the one in the mirror. To stop performing and start living. To be honest again—not perfect, just real.
Jesus once said, “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36). Dale Wimbrow said the same, only in rhyme. There is no reward in this world worth more than peace with our own soul. King David discovered this truth after committing adultery. He could no longer live with self. He repented and changed. We don’t like that word repent; it challenges us to live our life valuing self
Apologize when you must. Forgive more than you’re comfortable with. And when we meet your own gaze in the mirror, be able to smile, not from vanity, but from truth.
Because at the end of it all, when the crowds are gone and the titles have faded, and we grow old and face death, the person in the glass will still be there asking, "Did I live honestly?"
And if we can answer yes,
Then where’ve lived well. It’s never too late.
With quiet hope,
A voice from an older path