Mirror, Mirror. Why Do I Look Behind Me?
Don’t look back is not good driving advice. What questions do I need to ask about my past stories?
Playing with the rear-view mirror. When you return to your car in underground parking and find it’s been knocked in and you have to pull it back out to the normal place. When you realise it’s not in the right place as you reverse. Still looking over your shoulder as you pull out onto a motorway ’cause you might miss something.
Realising the fragility of the aid and the unreliable nature of the view presented. Rear view mirrors held on with gaffer tape. If looking behind me matters, what’s the metaphorical mirror I’m using, is it reliable, and should I get it fixed?
The underground car park scene (thinking Geneva airport) shows I only pay attention to the past when it’s obviously whacked. If it’s a bit off, I don’t really care. Taking the time to get this back in line requires some physical effort and a clunk sound when it’s in the right place.
The cost of not getting it right is scratchy, scrapey, and expensive. Every car park has this cost drawn black on concrete pillars with white scars.
Mirrors matter when I reverse. When I am thinking about the past, recalling memories, trying to learn from what’s gone before, or telling an old tale to myself, often about how I suck. It’s helpful if the mirrors are clean, in the right place, and tell the full story. Accurate impartial memory. My car mirrors and my memory are none of the above, but I still use them. When I use them in parking, I know they don’t tell the full story. That’s why there’s three mirrors in a car. A complete understanding requires weird twisting to look over my shoulder, sticking my head out the window, or resignedly asking the passenger “Can you get out and help?”. I love the phrase “left hand down a bit.” What is that really about?
Using the mirror going forward, pulling out, checking what’s behind me is about gauging safety, and then acting. Like reversing, but a little bit faster. There’s less time, it’s more of a glance and decision. No possibility of someone getting out to check it’s ok to change lanes. Don’t ask about backseat drivers in the car.
When life is moving faster and the road is straight, the mirrors are part of the general check. If I change course, they get a little more notice, and I may use alternatives.
Motorbikes and cycles going down the mountain roads get more attention. The cycles descend faster than cars and take original lines. Snow ploughs and those huge lorries carrying caterpillar track diggers get marked. Flashy noisy things are uncommon but jump start the senses. It’s not always how dangerous something is, but the emotional and physical response it produces.
Look for cycles and you see cycles. Jim Kwik describes noticing a pug in a shop.
Once pugs broke through my awareness, I started seeing them all over the place.
Jim Kwik
Memories can work the same way. Identify the emotional memory once, and you find it everywhere.
Then there’s distortion. Things that appear closer than they are. Closer, bigger, and more significant. Or miles away, with a shrug of “that’s not a problem.”
When I ask “Is it safe to move?” do I look for evidence of safety and threat? Does one shout louder than the other? When I decide on action, based on looking back, do I apply the same logic?
Have I already made up my mind, unless there’s a big scary snowplough, to convince me otherwise? Noticing how this feels more important when I’m about to change direction, rather than just carrying on.
How can I use this?
Why must I use this?
When will I use this?
Jim Kwik, Limitless
Key questions when I’m looking in the mirror at past events.
- Why am I looking?
Is it a quick glance as I continue forward? Is it to assess danger as I change course? Is it to view how fabulous I appear today?
2. What am I looking at and what am I looking for?
Am I seeing an empty road when I was searching for a blue car? Was it okay, but I want to find the blue car story? What is my blue car story? If I relate this to confidence, perhaps most of the time I was confident, but I’ll focus on the time I mucked up.
3. How am I going to use this?
How do I interpret this information and what actions result? With an empty road, what changes do I make? If I have a mirror full of big red fire truck do I get a shock of adrenaline and pull over?
For further adrenaline, check out my neighbour's descent of the Dent shown in the car mirror.
Maria Sokolowska is a photographer, coach and writer. She playfully explores imagery to challenge perceptions and perspectives. She uses metaphors to help understand some of the ordinary and complex ideas we have about ourselves so that we can feel understood.
Maria is a qualified ACC coach with the International Coaching Federation. The ICF defines coaching as partnering with clients in a thought-provoking and creative process that inspires them to maximise their personal and professional potential.
Maria works with creative professionals, coaches, post-graduates, and volunteers with the Uprising UK Charity, which inspires young people from under-represented backgrounds to move into leadership roles.
You can connect with her on LinkedIn, Twitter, Instagram or by following her newsletter on Substack.
