Name:
Email:
Posted: October 31st, 2007 at 1:08am By: Rev. Rebecca Schlatter
On this day when people of all ages run around dressed up as someone or something they're not, it's worth thinking about all the ways we do that on the other 364 days of the year.
Perhaps we are pretending to be good at something in order to keep a job. Perhaps we are pretending to be bad at something in order to avoid responsibility. Maybe we are just so confused that we are just making up a self as we go along, not sure who we are today, and if we will want to be that person tomorrow. In his book "Let Your Life Speak," Parker Palmer quotes May Sarton's poem "Now I Become Myself," in which the poet has "worn other people's faces."
Sometimes our masks aren't truly others' faces; they are versions of our own. They may come from our past, as we try to appear as hip and young and smart as we once were. Or they may come from our future — the way we'd like to be eventually, but are not today.
Those masks proclaim that someday we will be more spiritual, more fun, less neurotic, more cultured, more organized or less self-centered. Even if we never become that self we imagine, we can wear the mask, strenuously hoping that if we can convince other people that's who we are, we may yet convince ourselves.
Throughout my 20s, my costume for Halloween parties was "my shadow side," inspired by the psychology and self-help books I'd been reading. I loved that mask, not only because it was easy to put together — black clothes with black and white face paint, topped with a colorful scarf as the "creative streak" — but because I also imagined it to be unique with some humor and sophistication thrown in. Perhaps that was my true mask: One day I would be more unique, humorous and sophisticated than I actually felt.
At times masks can be helpful; since we tend to become what we practice, "acting as if" we are a certain way can form our character. (Is it possible that I have become more humorous and sophisticated over time?) On the other hand, sometimes we don't even want to be that self we imagine; we just want to be seen that way. So we wear the mask, and live with the fear we'll get found out as an impostor.
That fear can be exhausting. But it may be better than the alternative; far better to have a mask rejected, we reason, than the real self behind it. The price of that strategy is high: With masks on, we give up the possibility of true intimacy.
The real question, though, isn't whether a mask is helpful or harmful. The real question is what we lose by hiding. What's behind the mask that's not allowed to shine? If we masquerade as our imaginary former or future self, or hide behind the personality or talents of someone else entirely, how can we or anyone else appreciate who we are today, with our God-given talents and personality? How will we ever learn that those are good enough, and even wonderful?
Judeo-Christian tradition says that human beings are made in the image of God — "fearfully and wonderfully made," says Psalm 139. When we wear a mask of any kind, we live a distorted image of ourselves, and thereby separate ourselves from the One who made us.
Sure, it can be fun to try on a shadowy face on Halloween. But when the parties are over, make sure the mask comes off. While that may be scarier than any Halloween fright, it's well worth it. We may even find that the person underneath is just who we've always wanted to be.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
Permalink
On this day when people of all ages run around dressed up as someone or something they're not, it's worth thinking about all the ways we do that on the other 364 days of the year.
Perhaps we are pretending to be good at something in order to keep a job. Perhaps we are pretending to be bad at something in order to avoid responsibility. Maybe we are just so confused that we are just making up a self as we go along, not sure who we are today, and if we will want to be that person tomorrow. In his book "Let Your Life Speak," Parker Palmer quotes May Sarton's poem "Now I Become Myself," in which the poet has "worn other people's faces."
Sometimes our masks aren't truly others' faces; they are versions of our own. They may come from our past, as we try to appear as hip and young and smart as we once were. Or they may come from our future — the way we'd like to be eventually, but are not today.
Those masks proclaim that someday we will be more spiritual, more fun, less neurotic, more cultured, more organized or less self-centered. Even if we never become that self we imagine, we can wear the mask, strenuously hoping that if we can convince other people that's who we are, we may yet convince ourselves.
Throughout my 20s, my costume for Halloween parties was "my shadow side," inspired by the psychology and self-help books I'd been reading. I loved that mask, not only because it was easy to put together — black clothes with black and white face paint, topped with a colorful scarf as the "creative streak" — but because I also imagined it to be unique with some humor and sophistication thrown in. Perhaps that was my true mask: One day I would be more unique, humorous and sophisticated than I actually felt.
At times masks can be helpful; since we tend to become what we practice, "acting as if" we are a certain way can form our character. (Is it possible that I have become more humorous and sophisticated over time?) On the other hand, sometimes we don't even want to be that self we imagine; we just want to be seen that way. So we wear the mask, and live with the fear we'll get found out as an impostor.
That fear can be exhausting. But it may be better than the alternative; far better to have a mask rejected, we reason, than the real self behind it. The price of that strategy is high: With masks on, we give up the possibility of true intimacy.
The real question, though, isn't whether a mask is helpful or harmful. The real question is what we lose by hiding. What's behind the mask that's not allowed to shine? If we masquerade as our imaginary former or future self, or hide behind the personality or talents of someone else entirely, how can we or anyone else appreciate who we are today, with our God-given talents and personality? How will we ever learn that those are good enough, and even wonderful?
Judeo-Christian tradition says that human beings are made in the image of God — "fearfully and wonderfully made," says Psalm 139. When we wear a mask of any kind, we live a distorted image of ourselves, and thereby separate ourselves from the One who made us.
Sure, it can be fun to try on a shadowy face on Halloween. But when the parties are over, make sure the mask comes off. While that may be scarier than any Halloween fright, it's well worth it. We may even find that the person underneath is just who we've always wanted to be.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
Permalink
Add your comments