Masks

Keith Johnstone in his book Impro writes about using masks in Improv. The idea in acting is that actors inhabit the mask they wear. They become it. A person who wears the mask of a grumpy old man will act like a grumpy old man. We did this in class by making faces and I literally became the Wicked Witch of the West when I scrunched up my face. It was trippy. 

I think about the masks we all wear on a daily basis. We present one side to work, another side to friends, and maybe a third side to family. These masks become us, and we become them. I think of my good friend H, whose mask is Silicon Valley wife. How much does that mask make her life easy and how much does it imprison her? 

So what mask did I bring to Brazil? The mask that serves me in Seattle, does it serve me here? Can I see my own masks more clearly in a different land, and not a European land of my ancestors? 

My mask—and probably the mask of many people I know — is one of seriousness, that work and success and accomplishment is more important than fun and relaxation and living in the moment. How can we live in the moment when we are focused on success? Success is all about the future, not now. We are waiting for some greater reward. 

My mask is probably generally worried and afraid. I feel the weight and heaviness of this mask as I travel, and I want to take it off. When we travel to places we have never been to, to places that are so different from where we live now, it is an opportunity to see our daily masks, and decide how we want to live. 

Where will I go next? Sicily, to see the home of my grandfather? India? I have a bunch of friends form India. I need to get one of them to take me.

It isn’t just about learning what I dislike about my mask. This isn’t a journey of self-hatred and loathing. Rather it is about what is beneath the mask that I can more fully explore.