Purim...Unmasked

Last year at this time, I explained why Purim has never been one of my favorite Jewish holidays.  This year as the holiday approached once more, I felt myself sighing a little bit internally in anticipation.  Recently someone asked me what I was going to dress up as for Purim, and my instinctive first thought was, "Well, nothing."  I do not enjoy wearing costumes; if I'm not performing on a stage, I don't do it.  I just don't think it's fun, and maybe it's my rigid streak talking, but I don't like pretending to be someone I'm not.  Which, when I think about it, strikes me as incredibly ironic, because I feel like I have actually spent--and continue to spend--quite a bit of my life pretending to be someone I'm not.  I tend to present myself in a way that I think other people will find appealing.  This doesn't mean I adopt a completely false persona, but it often does mean putting myself out there so that only selective parts of myself are revealed.  A political science professor whose course I took during my freshman year at college had a favorite saying: "It is not truth that is important, but that which is perceived to be."  I think, consciously and unconsciously, in the past I applied the same principle to my own life.  It didn't matter what was actually true about me; it mattered what other people thought was true about me.

Which brings me to Purim, and the custom of wearing costumes and masks.  Recently I learned that the words, Megilat Esther, themselves reveal a lot of the meaning behind this tradition.  The word megilat -- מגילת -- comes from the root גלה, which means to uncover, to reveal, or public.  In contrast, the name Esther -- אסתר -- comes from the root סתר, which means to cover, to hide, or private.  During Purim, wearing disguises helps us remember that we all have our public selves that we present to the world.  Beneath those exterior displays, however, are our true selves that we often choose to keep private.  Purim is a reminder that no one is completely as he or she appears to be.  We each have a hidden inner self that, though often afraid to make itself known, deserves to be seen.

The most elaborate mask I've ever worn was the mask of anorexia.  For years, I never took it off, lest anyone see the scared, lost me who cowered underneath.  As a result, every interaction I had during that time was with someone who only saw my outward persona.  Every connection was superficial because no one got to know who I really was. In fact, I kept the mask on for so long that I forgot who I was.  A central piece of my recovery has been finding ways to "go natural."  I began by taking off the anorexia mask in private (or in therapy) and giving myself time to figure out who I was underneath.  Then, I started identifying people with whom I felt it would be safe to be more genuine, and I began to let them know me.  Over time, that list has grown longer and longer, to the point where I now feel that while I still throw a tiny bit of a disguise on once in a while, overall the self I'm presenting to the world is me. 

In an article titled, "Being You -- A Purim Insight", Sara Tzafona writes:

"We can't possibly discern our purpose while attending a masquerade ball within our personal worlds.  We're not listening to G-d's message, or even trying to find it, if we are spending our time creating false personalities or attempting to become replicas of others rather than focusing on who we are meant to be.

It's pointless, because the world doesn't need replicas of others; the world needs authentic people who aren't afraid to reflect the G-dly soul that was given to them, who aren't afraid to go natural in this razzle-dazzle world that ridicules morality and ethics and authentic purpose.  

We have an obligation to shrug off the artificial masks that we present to the world, because each of us has a job that can be performed by no one else.  There can only be one me, one you, and one Esther.  We must all do our jobs.  And all jobs are created equal, though not the same.  All jobs provide a vital piece to the mosaic of this world, a vital channel to its healing."

This Purim, I wish for all of us the ability to enjoy the festivities...and then, when it's over, to find a safe space in which to take off our masks.  I hope that each of us can find a corner of the world in which we can shine our true light, as only our authentic selves can do.