The now middle aged man, coming rapidly upon his fiftieth year of imagining, stumbled groggily to the bathroom, wiping the dawn's dewy sleep from his eyes, laying his hands on the cool marble that surrounded his wash basin, he leaned forward, splashing brisk water on his cheeks and with a sun warmed towel patting them dry; his face just inches from the mirror, reading each line on his face, the stories of his life captured in each tiny wrinkle and just as he was about to ask himself the same questions he has been asking morning after morning, year after year, for as long as cared or dared remember "Who am I? Why am I? What am I?" He thought, "no, this time I will ask the questions differently." So instead of, "Who am I? Why am I? What am I?" he asked, "Who are you? Why are you? What are you?" and much to his great shock his reflection answered back, "Ask me not for ultimate answers to the illusion of our infinite beingness, for there are none. Ask me instead, 'How are we meant to be?' And I will show you the absolute way; the way that is LOVE" At that moment the man's reflection reached out through the looking glass and took the man by the hand, guiding him gently into mirror that was rippling like mercury and with that the man and his reflection walked off into the endless dream, the path now clear and known; the answers he had for so long sought, left laying along with his ego, on the cool marble counter beside the wash basin, of no more importance or consequence than the wet cloth they lay beside.