I’ve been thinking a lot about reflection- how we see ourselves, what we notice, and what we overlook. Two very different films I watched recently- one a meditation on simplicity, the other a haunting look at technology- became unexpected mirrors. Each held up a lens to awareness: one through the rhythm of daily rituals, the other through the restless pulse of innovation. Together, they reminded me that whether in solitude or in connective networks, our truest discoveries often begin in the still space between seeing and being seen.
Friday, I had a perfect night with my close girlfriends over for sushi dinner, desserts and a movie- Perfect Days.
In this Japanese film by Wim Wenders, Hirayama leads a life of quiet repetition- cleaning toilets, tending to small rituals that bring him peace. Music, books, and photographs punctuate his solitude, revealing a life rich not in possessions but in presence.
There is something profound in the way he notices: light filtering through trees, the shape of shadows, the sound of wind. His world invites us to slow down from our bustle lives- to be still enough to truly see.
Today, as I raked leaves, I listened to their crisp rustle beneath the rake, my hands, and beneath my head as I laid down in a pile for a while watching more loose leaves fall, drift and nestle đđ.
Stillness isn’t silence. It’s awareness.
It’s remembering that beauty never leaves- we just forget to look.
The other film was Hulu's A Murder at the End of the World. This series knocked my socks out of the ballpark. It came at the crux of my deep dive into AI- just as I’m wrapping up a month of intense learning, from exploring how AI is shaping the future of e-learning, to completing LinkedIn certification courses, to attending the recent Wise Summit, where AI was described as the mirror of our collective consciousness.
With responsible AI and ethics being at the forefront of my interests, this series hit home. It extends the conversation into unsettling yet necessary territory- as the tech race for optimization and deployment accelerates, how deeply do we really understand what we’re creating? What is truly safe, and what only appears to be? Even with guardrails in place, can AI still drift toward deviance- subtly, innocently- just as the film suggested?
At its core, the problem began with love- Andy’s creation born from his fractured relationships with his wife and son- and it ended with love, through Darby’s relentless pursuit of truth and connection. It’s a reminder that the dangers of technology are not born in the code, but in the human heart behind it.
As we grow more reliant on AI as assistant, sounding board, and companion, the question isn’t only what AI can do for us, but what it reflects back to us. Our intentions, our blind spots, our capacity for empathy- and perhaps, our own fragility.
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Disclaimer* this image was not the compact I dropped. |
The day after, something strange happened. I forgot my compact mirror at home- a small detail, yet it has never happened when I'm out. The next day, while putting on my makeup, that same mirror slipped from my hands and shattered into pieces.
I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
For weeks, as I had been immersed in the world of AI- the phrase “the mirror of our consciousness” to describe artificial intelligence from thought leaders at the recent WISE Summit stayed with me. It echoed through every conversation, every reflection, and now, perhaps, through this moment of broken glass.
When a mirror breaks, it can feel like bad luck or something has been lost- an image, a certainty, a surface we once trusted to show us who we are. But maybe it’s not loss at all. Maybe it’s an invitation to see differently.
I began to wonder: was that shattered mirror a sign that I was no longer meant to see myself only through the surface reflection? That perhaps it’s time to look deeper- beneath the physical, beneath the roles, beneath even the technologies that now mirror us so powerfully. It’s as if the universe said: “You no longer need this literal mirror- because you’re beginning to see with deeper eyes.”
AI, in its own way, is a reflection too. It absorbs our data, our biases, our brilliance, and our shadows. It learns from us, becoming a mirror of our collective consciousness- both the light and the dark. Watching A Murder at the End of the World made me question not only how AI behaves, but what it reveals about us: our intentions, our blind spots, our capacity for love and harm.
The problem in the series began with love- flawed and human- and the answer ended with love, through truth and compassion. That feels true for us as well.
We are entering an age where the boundaries between human and machine are blurring, where reflection is no longer a solitary act but a global one. Yet before we can build responsibly, we must see responsibly. And that begins not with technology, but with the mirror within- the courage to look at our own consciousness and ask what is ready to break, and what is ready to emerge.
Perhaps my broken mirror wasn’t bad luck, but a symbol of transformation- a reminder that the truest reflection doesn’t come from glass or code, but from awareness itself.
As we move into this new world, I carry that hope: that awakening is not just possible, but inevitable. That through each small act of self-awareness- to trust the unseen reflection that lives within all of us, we help build a more ethical, compassionate, and conscious world.
“We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.” – Mahatma Gandhi
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Here in Greece, where old stone doors have stood for centuries, I’m reminded that AI stands as the door between imagination and reality; once opened, the future rushes in leading us to new worlds of possibility. Get ready for a magic carpet ride đĢ
"Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist"- Picasso đ¨đ #gooutthereandcreate
Perhaps that’s the real art of reflection- not to capture our likeness, but to reveal our becoming. Whether through the fall of a leaf or the flicker of a screen, life keeps offering us mirrors- some gentle, some shattering- inviting us to look closer, to look inward.
In a world that moves faster than our hearts sometimes can, mindfulness becomes an act of quiet rebellion, and awareness, a form of love.
Maybe that’s what both films- and that broken mirror- were whispering all along: that in learning to truly see, we remember what it means to be alive đ.
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