Look, Get said with a very simple thought: “What has that poor mirror ever done to you? What has that poor piece of glass ever done to you?” Don’t look at your mirror with so much hatred.

Sometimes we look in the mirror and don’t like what we see: our nose, our eyebrows, our thinning hair, our wrinkles, the fact that we’re no longer in our twenties… even 75 hurts. Do you know what all this is about? A beautiful word:  acceptance.

I remember I was living in Spain when Salvador Dalí died, I think it was in ’87. They took him to the hospital already very ill, over 80 years old, hooked up to machines (in ’87, imagine what they were like). And he said, “Even if I have to live like this for the rest of my life, I won’t die.” Four days later he died. It was incredibly hard for me to hear him say that. It was the cry of someone who didn’t accept being human, who didn’t accept growing old, getting sick, or the possibility of an accident that could leave you walking crookedly or in a wheelchair at 25.

We all know the ideal: to reach 95 or 100 years old with perfect mental faculties, completely independent: I bathe myself, I dress myself, I cook, I walk myself… That’s the ideal. But reality is often different: I need my husband or wife, I can no longer dress myself, I forget things, I feel tired, I’m no longer allowed to work, I lose my hearing, and we end up yelling at each other (not because we’re fighting, but because we can’t hear each other).

It’s like babies: they don’t cry to annoy you, they cry because it’s their language. And the elderly also have their own language: walking with difficulty, seeing poorly, hearing less, always eating the same thing or very little, being less tolerant of things. There are exceptions, of course, but the general rule has a name:  acceptance.

Accept that you are no longer the same age, the same strength, that you are not always right. Acceptance.

Jesus gave us the most powerful example in Gethsemane. Three times he asked, “Father, take this cup from me,” but he added, “Not as I will, but as you will.” Why three times? So that it would be crystal clear that he had an enormous desire to live, to remain among us, that what was to come pained him deeply: the beating, the spitting, the scourging, the crown of thorns, carrying the cross while bleeding profusely, and three hours nailed—not tied—to it. He knew everything, and yet he ended by saying, “Let us go, for my betrayer is at hand.” Total acceptance of the Father’s will.

Acceptance is not giving up. It’s not about stopping medication, ceasing to exercise, stopping bathing, or giving up on striving to be the best you can be. Acceptance is about doing everything you can do, but peacefully accepting what you can no longer change.

Those who accept themselves also learn to accept others:

• Accepting that my wife no longer walks or hears like she used to.
• Accepting that a child was born with different abilities and that he will never speak or be able to take care of himself.
• I accept that my father, who is senile because my mother died, now lives with me.

Accepting myself, accepting others, and accepting God’s will.

That’s why Get asked so wisely, “What did that poor piece of glass do to you? Why do you hate your mirror so much?” It’s a beautiful way of saying, “This is reality, accept it and live in peace.”

Pass this thought on to all those who are at odds with life because they do not accept their reality or that of others; those who live embittered by social, economic or any other kind of situation.