As my thoughts on dropping the pretence of our ego-selves continue, Chris Garrett’s post today on being yourself came at a good time.
He’s talking about authenticity online and he makes some good points around anonymity – that even if someone uses a pseudonym, they can still speak from the honesty of their hearts and you will get to know the real person regardless of the name they choose.
Then he goes on to talk about how well using the web seems to suit introverts, and something occurred to me. I’m a borderline introvert and I suspect that for many of us, it’s easier to drop the mask in writing. Perhaps that seems a bit counter-intuitive, because after all, in writing you have more time and opportunity to dissemble, to embroider the facts, rearrange the words or simply to show yourself in a good light.
But sitting here at my desk, I can take the time to reflect on what I really mean.
Sometimes, in real life, I’m far too affected by the energies of other people to be as real as I’d like. I play to the audience, I’m a bit of a people pleaser. Although I’m articulate, I often over-compensate for my shyness by being loud and hearty. Shudder.
So yes, I think that my written expression of myself and my thoughts is often more truthful than some of my day-to-day verbal interactions, even though for my own peace of mind and the privacy of others I set boundaries on what I will talk about here.
What about you, are you conscious of what masks you wear?
Image by Chiara Marra
Elsewhere:
At Nerdy Renegade News, Lisa uses some beautiful photographs and analogies to explore sinking deeper into the truth of life. Stop reading and do it, she says. Amen.
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
Ah, the mask. Those who know me only through my writing on my blog, and not in “meatspace” know me at my core on a uniquely transparent, level of knowledge not easily engaged in meatspace.
It’s sort of like, the book being better than the movie because it provides a deeper insight, transporting the reader into the experience of the story. The reader experiences the story, whereas the movie-goer observes it, passively.
Embracing that level of authenticity leaves me feeling vulnerable; it liberates and frightens, all at once. I think that’s because, writing is true revelation of my self, independent of what others think, or what I think they will accept. Whereas, meatspace can seem stifling, because the innate desire to belong causes me to construct a protective veneer. The desire to play to the crowd often overpowers the need for authenticity. And then, the need to belong leaves me feeling somewhat diminished.
Blogging has proven quite self-revealing, increased my self-awareness. It reminds me that my validity as a person originates from within, and not from outside myself.
Tess, thank you so much for the honesty of “sometimes I’m far too affected by the energies of other people to be as real as I’d like.” Before I learned how to better work with my own energies this was a problem I also faced, especially as a woman doing business in Japan. I also appreciate your look into levels of authenticity in blogging. I am finding, like you, that I interact more from a deeper place in myself – I often stop to ask myself whether I am truly communicating. Blogging has provided wonderful training in self-reflection, which in turn has led to greater honesty. By the way, I live in a society considered expert in using masks in daily life. It is one aspect of life in Japan that sometimes makes me feel very tired. Thank you for your post, Tess.
so many masks
so little time
blogging raises all sorts of issues about boundaries and authenticity
my experience has been that the most authentic me has been able to blossom in blogland, and after a few years, the ‘meatspace’ me might just be catching on
Interesting! So will it be Anchors and Masks now?
Were you aware of how close Mardi Gras is when you wrote this? It’s a fitting time to be talking about masks. And it makes me think of a performance I saw once where a woman did a spiritual dance wearing a mask she had made. Afterward she talked about how masks, rather than hiding our true selves, actually let our superficial selves recede so the true self can shine forth. I definitely see an analogy with the internet here.
I was just thinking about all this last night. There’s a discussion going on at Nathan Bransford’s (a literary agent) blog about publicity vs privacy via the internet, and someone mentioned extroversion/introversion. Like you, I’m more of an introvert, at least according to Myers-Briggs. And I very much relate to your paragraph about overcompensating for shyness. I can appear to be quite an extrovert, and I do enjoy some kinds of social situations, but I do need to withdraw to recharge and center.
Socially, I mostly prefer the internet simply because I can bypass superficialities and engage in conversations like this one whenever I want. It is unfortunately rare in everyday life to encounter someone who I can immediately go to this level of interaction with. So thank you for this post!
I think I find masks too confining, rather suffocating; as a kid at Halloween I preferred a painted face to a masked face but, of course, I was very practical in knowing that I could see better in the dark, go faster, get more candy etc. sans mask. It may be my nature to be too unmasked. I’ve stopped finding it surprising when friends tell me they would like to have my honesty in relationships with others. Surprising because what I may have just said never occurred to me that I should NOT be honest and open.
The blogosphere is terrific for honest sharing. ALthough I’ve shared on a couple of sites something I thought would be conversational and I was so quickly chastised as though I was “attacking” the author when I only wanted to share more back and forth about a topic…..oh well, to mask or not to mask – I suppose that is the question! Also, when I meet acquaintances or friends not seen in a long time they want to know details of my life, how I’m doing, what I’m doing, etc. I often refer them to my blogsite – I think my site reveals a lot about who I am. Many slough off that remark that they don’t “do” blogging………..so I suspect they didn’t really want to know much about me anyway. Wow, the mask topic seems to have unmasked me:) Thanks Tess!
@Roxanne, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the expression ‘meatspace’ wow, really graphic and visceral. Anyway, I digress. What a great book/movie analogy. And I think that’s why the very best movies succeed, you can engage in them more actively than usual. And rarely does it happen with a book/movie combo, because you’re always looking to see the differences from the book.
I sometimes think maybe we would all like to shed the superficialities, but there’s definitely an element of fear there.
@Catrien, I hadn’t thought of the piece around training in self-reflection for a while, although it was one of my reasons for starting this blog. And yes, I’d heard that about society in Japan.
@Kel, perhaps the bloggy blossoming can sometimes be a rehearsal, I hope so.
@Polli, yes, definitely a name change! No, I hadn’t put this together with Mardi Gras until you mentioned it. I agree with the question of superficialities. How often can you meet someone at a party and say “so what do you think about death?”
@SS, I’m shocked, you painted candy-grabber you! Yes I always find it’s the remarks I just make off the cuff and don’t think too much about that people take the wrong way. Interesting what you said about people not wanting to invest the time in reading your blog. It’s not a substitute for conversation, but what an intimate way to get to know the essence of someone. Of course I guess our “circuit” as it were is talking about quite deep things by definition.
The fun thing about pen names is that you choose them for yourself, or once and a while a good friend will choose one for you. You can play act every sort of persona online (I was once on a Zen monk list and mastered the part, even changing genders, with great delight.) The mask you have illustrated is incredibly creative and I think wearing various masks, or personae, is what we do instinctively and creatively in daily life anyway, whether we realize it or not. The friends I like the best though unmask with me, and then the depth and the joy of friendship is boundless!
kigen, I can certainly imagine you would have excelled on that Zen monk list!
Once again, Tess, your post is wonderfully challenging and a treat
Merci.
I had a great teacher some twenty years ago who liked to say that we are only masks with nothing else behind. I always fought that idea. My mother-in-law did not like the idea of ‘peeling the onion’ because she felt there was nothing at its center.
I find that as I am growing older the idea that there is nothing behind the mask enchants me. Maybe all of life is this journey toward nothingness when I will be able to slip out of this human envelope and be released into the great void where all is Godde…
claire, thank you. Your teacher and your mother-in-law sound a bit like some personality types (of which I am one) that we discuss in the Enneagram. We have a fear that all we are is surface, with no core of reality, so we try to hide our lack of self by constructing more and more attractive surfaces in shame that someone will discover there is nothing beneath.
I love your image of release into the great void, and I find it helpful sometimes to think of the core of myself as a beautiful crystal vessel waiting to be filled.
Hi Tess,
I came by to thank you for the comment on my blog, and now I have a comment of my own.
I’m an avid journal keeper, and I find you are right – writing does remove our masks. And not just our public ones, but our private ones too.
I think one of the reasons that is true is because of the Blank Page. When we stand face to face with a person part of our mind is processing their response. What do they think of us? Do they agree? Do they think I’ve lost my mind? With the page we forget there may be a reader at some other end. We lose our fears in the vast emptiness of the white and suddenly our hearts are pouring out. Even if we are posting the writing later, once our heart is on the page it’s hard to remove it… I think visual artists and dancers experience the same reaction to the blank space. I think if we let go of ego and lose ourselves in the blank space we can’t but help to find ourselves coming out.
Yours,
Megan
p.s. if you don’t mind and you have the time, could you swing by the link in my name and take my survey? I could really use the input…