(Halloween) Masks

"People seldom change. Only their masks do.

It is only our perception of them and the perception

they have of themselves that actually change."

- Shannon L. Alder

     Conversations in the faculty lunchroom can be anything from the latest episode of some tv show to the lunch offerings for the day to the upcoming festivities. Today, it was a little bit of all three, but with a main emphasis on the next holiday, namely, Halloween. As talk concerned various Halloween costumes, records being broken, Halloween memories and so much more, I began to think about masks. Recently I had been reflecting on how exhausting it is to "keep face." And in the spirit of Halloween, I figured I would share those instances of reflection for you.

      We all wear masks. Some people confuse hats with masks. They say some times I am a teacher, some times I am a mother, a sister, a daughter, etc. Those are not masks. They are, for sure, hats. So what are masks? Masks are appearing happy when you're really sad, appearing sweet and innocent but actually being not so nice, appearing as a prankster but actually hating the spotlight, etc. Masquerades allowed people of all social classes to interact with one another at a celebration. Masks allowed people to hide who they were. Masks still hide who we are.

     Whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, we all wear masks at some point in our life, if not most of our lives. We put on masks when we are meeting new people. We put on masks with the people we know, although some times they can see straight through our masks. We put on masks in our jobs, in our homes, in our social gatherings. We put masks on to protect ourselves against vulnerability. Masks are some times equated to armor; they will protect but instead they do everything but. 

      Masks. I wear them. Some times my mask comes in the form of words like, "I'm just tired." "It's been a long day." or even, "I'm just not feeling good." Some times my masks come in the form of humor, a cheesy smile, or music. Some times my masks come in the form of a closed door to my office or my bedroom. Some times even in the form of a simple excuse of "I'm going out to take pictures....far, far, far away." Yes. I wear masks. I've always been an actress, I've always been able to do it. But recently I've been realizing something. It's hard keeping face; it's hard being someone you're not. 

     Something about myself that I've known for a very long time is that I don't trust people right away with me. I have a sense of baby-like trust with people concerning everything but my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings. It takes me a very long time to even tell people that I'm upset about something....a little something. I usually become very quiet and call it a day. But in doing that, in holing up and becoming quiet, one begins to bottle things up. One becomes a jar of empty, negative feelings. And just like any mixture of emotions bottled up, it's bound to explode one day. 

      If we look at the picture above, we see an interpretation of a mask. One thing I focused on right away when I first saw it was the very concept that the man is holding the mask. If you're anything like me, holding up a mask like that for a long period of time might be considered strenuous activity. Seriously. Imagine holding your arms up for a long while. At some point, you're going to want to put it down. At some point, holding up your mask is going to get tiring. It might turn toward strenuous activity. It's exhausting trying to keep your face. 

      Last week, I was feeling incredibly tired and I couldn't quite grasp why. I was getting enough sleep, I was getting my morning coffee, I was doing things that were healthy and energizing. Yet, I was tired. But also last week, I felt like I was putting on a mask. You see, even though I've been walking daily into the same setting with the same people for the past two and a half months, I don't feel like I can quite be wholly me yet. Wholly me is this: a sassy, little, princess-like person with a fresh air of Catholic devotion to all things. Wholly me is someone who feels deeply in all aspects of feelings. Wholly me is someone who loves to sing and perform. Wholly me is someone is simple, basic, honest. But when I feel threatened in any way, shape or form, or if I can't wholly trust people yet, I suddenly feel like I can't be me. I can't be silly, I can't be simply happy, I can't be who I was meant to be. I put on a mask. 

      I realized after a while that a big part of the reason why I was so exhausted was because I was holding up a mask. I realized I was so tired because I was trying to keep up a subtle persona and not be extravagant me. Because wholly me is also very extravagant...I walk with an aura of pizazz. I walk with an air of EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL IF WE LET BE. Normally...unless I'm wearing a mask. And honestly, it was more tiring to not be energetic than it was to be energetic. 

      Keeping face is exhausting. Walking around in shoes or outfits or wigs that we aren't used to wearing on Halloween, is exhausting (especially after the candy coma). Just so, wearing a figurative mask is exhausting, too. It's hard to always seem like everything is fine or that you're a different person than you really are. The problem comes when we are so attached to our masks that we lose who we truly are. We forget our silliness or our strength or our emotions. It's tiring, it's exhausting, it's strenuous. 

     So my challenge is this, to both myself and to you: after Halloween today, put your masks away for a little bit. Try to be who you really are. Try to be confident. A great person once reminded me that all we need is 20 seconds of courage and we can be all that we need to be. So, after today, I'm taking off my masks. I'm going to take some risks. I'm going to be me.