what is your original face?

the face - a time code, de ruth ozeki, e o carte pe care mi-a trimis-o fen/ioana din japonia, cadou de inceput de an. titlul acestui post e un koan de la care porneste autoarea calatoria.
cind am deschis cartea, pe prima pagina am gasit dedicatia asta:

despre ce experiment e vorba?
e vorba de exercitiul ala in care stai si te uiti nemiscat la fatza cuiva, o anumita perioada de timp. il mai fac oamenii pe la atelierele de teatru, sau de scris, sau de dezvoltare personala/terapie.
doar ca ruth ozeki il face cu ea insasi, timp de 3 ore.
are undeva la nivelul fetzei o oglinda si, sub oglinda, pe ceea ce imi imaginez a fi o etajera mai solidutza, un laptop la care isi scrie toate gindurile care-i trec prin cap in timpul celor 3 ore in care se uita neclintit la fiecare milimetru al propriului chip. 

the los angeles review of books lays out the spiel very well:
“THE EXPERIMENT IS SIMPLE,” begins Ruth Ozeki in The Face: A Time Code. “[T]o sit in front of a mirror and watch my face for three hours.” It’s an assignment — originally “designed to feel excessively long” — that she’s borrowed (and tweaked) from an art history professor who requires students to spend that much time in a museum or a gallery “observing a single work of art and making a detailed record of the observations, questions, and speculations that arise over that time.” About an hour in, says Ozeki, “Dad is looking out at me reproachfully again.” Before time’s up, she’ll reckon not just with Dad, but with her mother, of course — as well as with beauty, spirituality, work, aging, and death.

la mine a  fost cu accent pe beauty, attractiveness, spirituality and aging,
de cite ori citim o carte care ne 'prinde', e un moment in care se intimpla un soi de'click' - un tablou, o experienta, o intrebare care ne face sa ne gindim imediat: 'wait a minute, asta e exact ce simt/gindesc io' - si instant te simti frate cu omul ala care a scris aia despre tine.

cartea asta a avut mai multe asemenea momente pentru mine.
asta a fost probabil primul. 

Our tales all tell us that an old woman's vanity is, at best, sad and unseemly - and, at worst, ridiculous and even evil. As I approach my sixtieth year , I feel I should be moving away from the question 'Am I still fair?" toward a more existential question: 'Am I still here?' You'd think seeing myself in a mirror would be somewhat reassuring.
And yet, I've noticed that when I catch sight of my  of my face in a shop window, I'm quick to look away. When I brush my teeth, I'll often turn my back to the mirror, or focus on a detail of my reflection, a blemish or a spot, rather than on my aspect as a whole. It's not that I don't like what I see, although that's often part of it. Rather, it's more that I don't recognize myself in my reflection anymore, and so I'm always startled. Averting my gaze is a reflexive reaction, a kind of uncanny valley response to the sight of this person who is no longer quite me. 
It's not polite to stare at strangers.

citind cartea asta, mi-am dat seama ca o chestie super random precum boala basedoff, care iti da exoftalmie cronica si puffiness, iti afecteaza super mult relatiile - sociale, personale, profesionale. si examinindu-mi frustrarea in timp ce citeam, am inteles ca, daca e adevarat ca 'ochii sint oglinda sufletului'. atunci sufletul de care e vorba e al privitorului.