Masks. They’re in vogue at this time of year, worn by kids trick-or-treating, and occasionally by politicians running for office. There was a lot of mask-wearing, too, during the recent pandemic. And it’s also true that we can use metaphorical masks to hide our private selves from the world.
Isn’t it true that what you see is not always what you get? Don’t we often wear “masks”? Masks in the form of polite smiles that hide our hurts. Masks in the form of anger that conceals our vulnerabilities. Masks that keep others from knowing who we really are.
Any day now, children in Halloween costumes will sashay through our streets, hoping to surprise or scare their neighbors and friends. They live out their dreams, dressing as Barbie or Harry Potter, feeling for just a moment that they can be anything they want in life. Or they live out their nightmares, dressing up in scary costumes, helpful in arming themselves against things that go bump in the night — and guaranteed to net candy when they yell, “Trick or treat!”
But we all know that you can’t judge a book by its cover. You can’t assume that what’s inside matches what’s outside. I learned this many years ago, when I went to my first gem show and watched a craftsman break open a geode.
Geodes, for those who slept through sixth grade science class, are nondescript — almost ugly — gray, round-shaped rocks. But inside, they are quite beautiful, nearly hollow, filled with silvery, sparkly crystals. What a surprise!
How often do we take things at face value? I would never have given that geode a second glance, judging from its exterior. Isn’t that what we do with each other, too? Judge the exterior without giving a thought to what may be inside?
Sometimes, masking our true selves is very convenient. We get to choose what we reveal. Our emotional cover-ups give us anonymity, helping us get through the day. Our attire can also tell a lot about us — or not.
Teens, of course, are masters at this. Often, they dress as differently from adults as they can, sometimes simply for the shock value but mostly to make their growing independence crystal clear. They also may answer in monosyllables, so that we have to search for clues as to what they’re feeling, or how they’re doing. Their “mask” of piercings, distinctive clothing, haircuts and (if they can get away with it) tattoos definitely make their point.
Sometimes, though, masks may not be a bad thing. Imagine if we couldn’t mask our hearts, our inner selves, from strangers or coworkers. It would get pretty painful if we had no protection at all. The problem, if there is one, lies in taking it too far. Sometimes we can’t let others into our lives, we can’t open up. Only when we get safely home can we take off the fake smile, the false cheeriness we think we must project as, with a weary sigh, we allow ourselves to be who we really are.
Perhaps we think our true self is unacceptable, not what those around us want to see. Sometimes this is accurate, if we’re masking a not-so-nice personality. But often it is the opposite. We mask a beautiful interior self, a self that the world needs us to be.
Consider a snake’s skin once it’s been shed. It’s rather nondescript; some may even call it ugly. But wearing that skin was necessary to the snake’s wellbeing, just as eventually shedding it was.
And what is more breathtaking than a butterfly? We barely give it a second glance in its cocoon form. It’s only when that caterpillar fulfills its destiny and transforms into a butterfly that we stop to savor its beauty.
Just as an ordinary-looking stone can be polished into brilliance, just as a candidate’s humanness is revealed when he removes the political mask, just as a gorgeous child lurks underneath the scary costume, so it is with us.
“What is it you guard with fastened doors?” asks philosopher Kahlil Gibran. What transition do you need to make? What mask do you need to remove, forever, to reveal the hidden beauty of your sweet self — imperfections and all?
Kathy Baker is a writer and speaker, a messenger of encouragement who loves to touch hearts and tickle souls with her work. She is the author of “Leaving Adversity Plaza,” and “A Tale of Three Choices: His, Hers, Mine.” She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at [email protected].