Playing Russian Roulette with a Mirror

I’ve seen folks walk around acting like everyone owes them an apology. They’ll strut through life pointing fingers and finding fault in others, never realizing they’re the common denominator in their own misfortunes.

It’s like watching a man play Russian roulette with a mirror. He might not hear the gun go off, but you can bet the damage will show up sooner or later.

Back when I was working the feed store, there was a fella named George who thought he was God’s gift to agriculture and common sense. He’d tell anyone within earshot how smart he was, how he had the best yields, and how the rest of us were a few kernels short of a cob. He’d puff up like a bullfrog on a summer night, croaking about how others didn’t get it.

Now, George had one bad habit. He never looked inward.

When his tractor broke down, it was the mechanic’s fault. When his crops failed, it was the seed company’s fault.

When his wife finally packed up and left, somehow it was her fault too. The man lived in a world where he was always the victim and never the cause.

One day, George came storming into the store madder than a wet hen. He slammed a bag of feed on the counter and declared it was “defective.” He said his hogs wouldn’t eat it. I told him the batch had gone to three other farms without issue. He glared at me, snorted, and left with his pride as inflated as ever.

A few weeks later, word came around that George’s hogs were sick. It turned out, he’d been storing the feed too close to a leaky diesel tank.

The fumes had spoiled it. Nobody had done him wrong. He’d done it to himself.

He never came in after that. Moved out of town, they said.

Probably went somewhere new to find a fresh crowd that didn’t know his history. But I’ve always figured that no matter where you go, your shadow follows you, especially the one cast by your own ego.

See, a lack of self-awareness ain’t harmless. It’s not just a character flaw, it’s a slow, loaded kind of danger. It makes a person pull the trigger on their own happiness and then blame the recoil on someone else.

Life gives us plenty of mirrors, friends, family, and strangers, who show us the truth even when we don’t want to hear it. The trick is learning to look without flinching.

Because the moment you stop being honest with yourself, you might as well be standing in front of that mirror, revolver in hand, telling the reflection it’s someone else’s fault that you’re out of luck. The click you hear after that ain’t the hammer falling, it’s the sound of opportunity walking out the door.