Feature Articles

 

The Masks We Wear

by Paul Fedorowicz

When I was a boy, Halloween was easily one of my favorite holidays. It was a sanctioned opportunity to dress up and pretend to be someone, or something, else. Masks fascinated me, and I spent endless amounts of time looking at them in costume stores, fantasizing what it would be like to look out through the eyes of a werewolf, pirate, or other fantastic creature. Masks gave the ability to explore all aspects of identity, including age, gender, status, and moral standing.

As an adult, I have collected masks wherever I travel. I always attempt to see the masks of a region's indigenous people, for masks inevitably communicate a culture's soul life. They represent a people's fears, passions, and spiritual impulses. Masks have been a part of cultural and religious practices for millennia and have been used as a way of invoking the great animal powers as well as the various gods and goddesses. In this way, masks serve a divine, ecstatic function. They help humans to temporarily stand outside of themselves, setting aside their limited ego identities in service to the archetypal powers, for which the masks are but an image. However, though masks can allow us to escape ourselves, they also connect us more deeply to ourselves.

The ancient Greeks developed huge masks, called personae, for use in theater. The personae were, in effect, primitive microphones or amplifiers. Held in front of the face, they allowed that which was within, the actor, to "sound through." Similarly, our own psychological personae are necessary tools through which we can express the various, and sometimes contradictory, parts of ourselves.

As a psychotherapist, I have sometimes heard other professionals speak critically of personae, as though one's personae are simply false selves that should be done away with in order to reveal the more true, underlying self. I differ with this view. I believe that psychological problems are not the result of an over-reliance upon, or overabundance of, personae. Rather, I believe that most psychological problems result from the lack of a sufficient variety of personality masks. As with the ancient Greeks, our masks are the very instruments through which the theater of the self can be enacted. Our personae are our means to live out our lives in the outer world as well as the means to become known to ourselves within.

It has been my profound personal and professional experience that we humans are each a collection of parts of self. These varying aspects are each necessary pieces of the greater whole. When the parts are allowed their function, psychological health ensues. More typically, problems result only when parts of self are suppressed through rejection, criticism, or abuse.

C. G. Jung, the great twentieth-century pioneer of the psyche, was a champion of individuation, the process by which people more fully become themselves. I stand with Jung in support of individuation. Yet, as I've come to understand the process in myself and others, individuation, paradoxically, seems to require a kind of collectivization within the individual. The various parts of self must be brought forth and given their respective place in the collective. This is more easily said than done, however, since the means of self-expression is typically lacking in most people. As children, we were too often instructed to put away our various personality masks so that we could better look like everyone else and more easily fit into society.

As we endeavor to more fully become ourselves, we need to reconstruct masks appropriate to the respective parts of ourselves so that they can "sound through" and be expressed. Fortunately, there are various tools that one can employ toward this end. One of the best approaches is the actual making of masks. There are many methods of mask making, and different materials can be used. Over the years, I, myself, have made many masks (that's me on the right wearing one of them) and have guided others in the making of masks for themselves using plaster of paris strips.

An impression of the face is made, allowed to dry, and then decorated so as to represent powers within self, powers higher than self, ancestors, animal energies, or one's own creative muse. In this way, the masks serve as channels through which something other than one's own limited ego identity may gain form and expression in the world.

In the creativity groups and retreats that I facilitate every year, I've come to realize that people are, in essence, forging new identities. More precisely, they are trying to bring forth identities within themselves that have been suppressed. The making of a mask, itself a creative process, provides a vital symbol of the self. As with the ancient Greeks, the mask serves as a kind of microphone or amplifier through which we can better hear the creative voice within. Though masks certainly can be used to hide, they can also be used to reveal all that we are, as we more fully become ourselves.

Paul Fedorowicz, M.A., is a Jungian-oriented psychotherapist in private practice in Seattle with over 16 years’ experience. Paul is also a creativity coach, utilizing The Artist's Way in ongoing support groups and retreats. ("The Artist's Way: The Masks We Wear" retreat: Nov 2-5, 2001). For more information, call Paul at (206) 720-0091.