Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

I just dusted off the glass vase that sits on my desk, beside my computer. It was very dusty, there was a thick layer of dust that required solid wiping; a puff and a blow would not have been enough. I took a tissue and wiped all around, going into all of the crevices carefully, and then over again. It gleams now. I'm surprised that I didn't notice the dust before, because it had obviously been building up for a long time, but I hadn't. But once I noticed, it bothered me enough to immediately pick it up and clean it. As I held the vase in one hand and cleaned it with the other, I thought there must be an analogy here for my life.

Am I the vase? Am I as solid and real and specific as the vase? Is the dust debris from my life experiences? Can my internal dust be as easily wiped away as the motes of air that settled on the vase? Can I shine again as the vase does? Now, that it is clean, you would never imagine that just moments ago it was dull and unappealing. Can I discharge my dust, revealing, once again, my beauty?

Maybe I should fill the vase with water and put flowers in it; it would look better, and, afterall, that's what it's made for. I wonder what the analogy for that would be in my life?