The Mask You Wear : Does This Match My Earrings?

Halloween 2011

Most of the youth and adults I worked with in counseling and through the arts found that mask making was a quick and deliberate way to alter the perspective they had of themselves and the perspectives of those who look at them.  After having created hundreds of plaster mask and watching them be decorated, I realized that most people created what was present versus what they wished could be.  They were accepting who there are and being happy with the results, most of the time.  There were a few occasions when a mask was destroyed as soon as it was finished.


In Art Therapy training we were told to discourage a client from destroying their work.  Some fellow graduate students saved the debris when a work was destroyed.  Others got into physical power struggles with clients, often resulting in using sanctioned restraint maneuvers in the hospitals where they interned.

As I look at the mask I brought to Mexico and the mask of Mexico, I sometimes wonder if I need to adopt such methods.  My approach was to allow them to destroy their work.  What's wrong with being dissatisfied?  What's wrong with expressing anger?  What's wrong with wanting your life to be better when reality really sucks?  

Here is an excerpt from my journal entry one month after I arrived in Mexico:

     "OMFG!  I have no mask!  I hole up in my rented house for days, fluctuating between intense moments of despair to deep desires to move to the next destination or even back home.  However, having only just landed in this alien environment, it seems that to desert the quest at such an early stage would be a mocking gesture to the twenty five years of its’ anticipation.

I have no idea what home means any more.  After two years of dismantling my belongings, my professional life, my physical residence, what exactly would I be returning to?  With the number of friends I have in the States, and the busy lives we all live, I am more likely to have quality time with those same people in my new country than back in the homeland.  In fact, two of those very dear women I met here; one friendship developed over the course of a month long stay while the other transpired in the course of a 30 minute chat.   

Neither is able to be HERE.   

For unforeseeable reasons, they remain perpetually THERE.  

My strong need for tribal affiliation and permanence of place must incorporate vagabonding.  Oh, and my cat, as well as my dream of living in Mexico.  IMPOSSIBLE!  I’ve set myself up for failure.  Did I accidentally sell my own mask in one of four garage sales?"

I found my mask in one of my 20 gallon green totes!

Be kind to yourself.  The physical and mental preparation for a life move is weighty.  Feeling displaced, not understanding who you are in your new country, having limited or no long term bonds with those around you is a huge stress trap.   With a few more months under my belt, I've begun doing the things that made my life enjoyable in my home country and added a few new ones.  

Here are some suggestions for surviving the first six months:

• Be kind to yourself and if you can't, call someone from your home country that adores you.  Tell them you need a loving word that outlines exactly how wonderful you are.
• Tackle only one huge task Every Other Day (EOD).  When we were working full-time, it was necessary to multi-task by planning the route of least resistance and highest yield.  Remember - EOD (not ELO, which is a musical group from the 80s)
• If you are solo, or have been a person that enjoyed time alone, it is still necessary to socialize.  You did this without being aware of it when you were back home.  Our work, buying groceries, working in our yards or visiting with a neighbor at the mailbox, all brought us into contact with other people.  Invite another single person to join you as you go grocery shopping.  Invite the wives of married couples for coffee.  Believe me, they want to spend time away from their husbands!
• Jump up and down!  Do it right now!  In your sassiest Southern accent, I want you to shout, "I FREAKING live HERE!."

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