Night desert in a sleepy Southern California town. The foothills lay under moonlight, sleeping lions. I can see them out the curved picture windows that wrap around half the wall of a circular room. I'm in a studio apartment with my ex-girlfriend, Radha, and she is pouring her heart out to me about our relationship of one and one-half years, ended two and one-half years ago. The conversation is highly dynamic with both of us walking all around the room, voices alternating between loud and soft, Radha alternating between affection and tears. It is virtually a re-creation of our break up scene. I feel myself playing out the same dramas that afflicted me back then. I literally feel as if my ego/emotional state from that era has replaced my current one. As I watch her, I watch myself, becoming more and more aware that this is not the person I am; not someone caught up in deeply grooved behavior lines of impatience, stubborness and selfishness. I realize that I am a mirror, reflecting the ego of the person I am interacting with. Now I feel my heart and organs constricted in knots of anxiety, fear, self-loathing. I become aware that I'm experiencing Radha's experience. Inside her I feel the unspoken center of her pain: she thinks that I hate her and regret ever being with her.Instantly, I use my will and redefine the moment. My voice softens as my body language soothes her. I tell her sincerely that I loved her when we were together. I tell her that I cherish our relationship as a vital source of learning about her, myself, and relationships in general. I do not regret that we were together. I would not trade it for anything.
I tell her all this as we are both facing a mirror, me behind her. She is transformed. And a half-smile lights up her face as she looks at my reflection and gives a meek reply: "Really?"