Uncovering Identities
It doesn’t have to be mysterious; it’s actually quite simple. It’s about the space we share, this effortless presence that surrounds us. It’s a type of revealing, a kind of vulnerability, a nakedness.
We all go through our daily lives, for the most part, wearing a mask: a mask that we hide behind and show to the world. A mask that represents who we think we are, like a physical representation of our social media profile. It is the “best” side of ourselves. One that displays the culmination of our likes and dislikes, of our beliefs and our belongings. It is the conditioning we wear or have been taught to wear. The robes and clothes from family, society and institutions for education. They are gorgeously adorned and prevent us from feeling naked around our peers, for without these clothes and opinions it would be hard to distinguish our very sense of self.
In ancient Greek drama, the Latin word persona referred to a mask or character, enabling actors to adopt multiple roles. This concept of persona has evolved beyond its theatrical roots, giving rise to our modern understanding of personality. Carl Jung, for instance, used persona to describe the social façade we present to the world—a mask crafted to create a specific impression while hiding and obscuring our true nature. This adaptation highlights the contrast between our external appearance and our true inner essence.
Just as an actor assumes many roles throughout their career, we each don an array of identities throughout our lives. These identities, like the costumes of an actor, change according to the scenes we play out on the stage of life. We may be a parent in one scene, a friend in another, a teacher, a student, an artist, an engineer, and so on. Yet, beneath these changing guises, the essence of who we are remains steadfast and unaltered.
The mask we wear is an amalgamation of our conditioning, preferences, traumas, and beliefs. Many spend their entire lives with this mask on and assume it is who they are. They fear death because they don’t want to take off the mask. They are afraid. We run around in all sorts of strange ways because we assume we are this network of stuff we have compiled and picked up along the way. We want to show people what’s on our Instagram page—the photos of our lives that display the things we like, the things we do—in hopes that we will be liked, in hopes we will pass some test, in hopes we are doing it right. When we seek validation and approval, this mask comes to be what we identify with.
But spirituality is about taking off the mask. So, we must ask, "Who am I without the mask?"
It is like coming home after a long day's work and taking off your clothes. You’re not attached to your work clothes. In fact, it probably feels good to take them off. You might feel some separation from the burdens or dramas of your work life. Naked, without the flattering colours or neat lines of your outfit, you might look in the mirror and see yourself more clearly.
Likewise, as a spiritual practice, you might take off parts of your identity: your name, your parents, your thoughts, your beliefs, your ideas and opinions. Take off the body, limb by limb, until all that is left is what is aware of all these parts. What is aware of the name is nameless. What is aware of the body is formless. What is aware of the thoughts is not a thought. It is this natural, pristine, and naked awareness that is free from all bondage.
When we uncover the mask, we stand open-faced to the winds of the world and ready ourselves for a new dance, a new act, and a new song.
Even while inviting this uncovering, it’s important to acknowledge where the mask comes from, and its value. Circumstance and experience leave their traces, their imprints, and their scars upon our psyche. It is like applying makeup or face paint. Each line contributes to the next, and soon enough, we have an accumulation of a colouration of scenarios, sentiments, and suffering painted thick upon our faces. It becomes veneer, and two things happen here. First, we externalise the mask and, as a result, see more of its colouring in the world. Second, it becomes a mask that the world also identifies us through.
Accordingly, we assume, “This is a part of me, for without it, who would I be?” But if you wipe off the makeup and look behind the mask, you’re forced to ask, “What is there? Who is that? What is that?” There is nothing inspirational or motivational about this inquiry. We are not in the realm of self-improvement, which is ultimately just about refining a mask. This is about consciousness itself, naked and raw.
This inquiry does not mean that you’re denying the mask—the rich colouring of stories, beliefs, and feelings that comprise your wonderfully unique life. It is simply an opportunity to see beneath all that, even if just for a moment, so you can marvel at the freedom of all that is.
