I don’t understand what she means until she starts setting up full-length mirrors against the wall in front of us. Oh dear God, I think to myself. What on earth is she going to make us do? Fear rides through my bones.

“The mirror can tell you a lot about yourself,” she says. “Most of us look at our reflection almost every day, but do we really see the soul looking back?” She sounds like Hypnotist Jerry. “If you cannot behold yourself, how can you expect as much from an audience? You must know who exists within you before delivering them to others in a meaningful way.” I begin praying: Our Father, who art in heaven, please protect me from this woman and her witchcraft. “Today you just might confront the higher being that lives inside.”

I look around the circle to see if anyone else is freaking out. I make eye contact with a blond girl standing across the room from me. Her eyes are wide with fright, confirming I’m not the only one terrified by what is about to happen. My feet are running out of the room and into the safety of the hallway. Just my imaginary feet. My actual body is frozen.

I don’t know why I’m so afraid to look at myself in front of others. Probably because the mirror has never been my friend and has only been a place of critique and pain. I realize Professor Nielson is right. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen myself outside of superficial projections of how I imagine others view me.

“So here we go,” Professor Nielson says before dramatically turning off the lights. “I want you all to take a deep breath. Come into the room. Feel yourself in your body. Flesh and bone. A living miracle. Buddhism approaches the possibility of life occurring like finding a needle in the ocean. Extremely rare. So there is no question about your majestic preciousness. Only a matter of you seeing it.

“Before I turn on the lights, I want you to imagine that you are a newborn baby seeing yourself for the first time. Fresh eyes. A new way of witnessing. So take a deep breath and close your eyes. When I tell you to open them, do your best to let go of any judgments, critiques, assumptions, or beliefs and just see.”

I try and inhale as much oxygen as possible, but my chest is so constricted with fear I only manage to pull in small gulps. When the lights come on, I watch myself struggle to breathe, which is exactly what a newborn would be doing anyways. I can only look at my reflection for a few seconds before I have to look away in disgust. Why am I like this?

“You can sit or stand, but keep breathing. Keep looking. Let the layers of who you thought you were fall away like autumn leaves.”