Put Away the Flesh and Join the Mask-erade
“Change involves carrying out an activity against the habit of life”.F.M. Alexander
Imagine, a masquerade ball with lots of glitter, feathers, great music, fabulous company with hundreds of guests moving shoulder to shoulder, dancing, laughing, hugging, and flirting… All you can see are people’s masked faces and their movements.
Think of the thrill of guessing who is who under these fantastic masquerades and who or what the person we are guessing is masquerading as. Let your mind travel to Venice during Carnival time — you have seen the images, heard the tales and maybe even experienced it first hand. You might even have a souvenir masque a well meaning relative or friend brought you back from their Italy trip or cruise.
Ironically, Carnivale (Italian)— literally translated from its latin root “carn levare” means “put away the flesh”. It is the celebration before Lent when Catholics are asked to fast, and take time for prayer and introspection. I always appreciated the nudge for good spring cleans, both physically and emotionally. The masquerading leading up to this time was a fun way to play with people, especially those who normally aren’t playful.
This year, the whole experience of masking and introspection is totally upside down, and we are being given the opportunity to take it to the extreme.
This year, with the stay at home order, the party stopped before the masquerade even started, and now, after six weeks plus, we are asked to don our masks and to step outside one by one.
This year, even the masks are upside down, covering our mouths and noses preventing us from laughing, toasting, and singing with each other.
So, what we are left with is guessing the color of the lipstick, the expression of the mouth, and the nature of the person who is hiding behind the fearful eyes and the awkward movements filled with confusion and questions. The dance in the isles of the grocery store is neither elegant nor playful. The music, if there is any, sucks. As a result, I find myself on the verge of a panic attack, my mind spinning faster than my body would dance a waltz.
To top it all off, I have yet to see one mask that looks inspiring or fun. Even during the Paris Fashion week that happened at the edge of this pandemic, the designers were slapping last minute masks on their runway models. Clearly, no one had thought of a pandemic proof face mask as an accessory on anybody’s dream list of fashion must haves.
A few weeks ago, as it became clear that we all are legally, practically and morally obliged to wear face masks, I shrugged it off as no big deal. I live in Vermont and love skiing in super cold temperatures. Covering my face is a daily routine five months of the year. I have neck gaiters and scarfs and don’t mind the idea of wearing gear that reminds me of my favorite season with my favorite sport.
That is until I went to the grocery store, my mouth and nose covered by my neck gaiter with the smell of my last ski adventure still in its fibers. The darn thing started to slip down since I neither had a hat nor a helmet to hold it in place. I also felt hot, and it clung to my face. I hadn’t even finished navigating the produce section when I felt my chest tighten and my head start to hurt: breath short, legs wobbly, cold sweat dripping down my back. By the time I was back in my car I probably had touched my face more than I would have without a mask, and I had blocked people’s way with my cart or my body, distracted by my full blown panic.
Back at home I spent the next two hours in front of a mirror, trying on and moving around with gaiters, scarfs, bandanas, t-shirts, leggings, wood-shop mask, anything I could find to drape, wrap and tuck on my face.
I noticed how I pushed my head forward in order to prevent the bandana from slipping down — of course, as my head pushed forward, my neck shortened, which interfered with my breathing.
Grateful for my Alexander Technique training I was ultimately able to identify the must haves of a face mask that would provide maximum protection with minimal interference with my breath and movement.
I would give a lot to work with my Alexander Technique teachers and students right now — but the work together is tactile and kinesthetic, and social distancing precludes that, so for now I have to tap into my cellular and kinesthetic memory and work with that: I observe my movement pattern, notice the tension in my neck muscles, ask myself how I could do this so I strain less, and then wonder what would happen if I allow some space between my face and the bandana, not worrying about wether it would slip or not.
I notice how my thoughts have shifted to action, or rather non-action, how my neck muscles have eased and my neck has now lengthened, allowing my head to balance gracefully on my spine, and my breathing becoming fuller and, once again, effortless.
Having done this, I am surprised to find that the bandana sits on my nose much more securely than before, and I am reminded that fear is a terrible guide to movement.
“How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downwards! The antipathies, I think — ” Alice in Wonderland
My mirror and movement session lead me to the possibility of wearing scarves wrapped around my head and face in ways reminiscent of Middle Eastern tradition. The ease of movement that this luxurious wrapping and draping of material allows is inviting; it inspires more than it restricts. Yet, I want to be sensitive to not culturally misappropriate head coverings. I’m still pondering the matter.
“It is not the degree of ‘willing’ or ‘trying’, but the way in which the energy is directed, that is going to make the ‘willing’ or ‘trying’ effective.”F.M. Alexander
After not leaving the house for another week and continuing to chew on the mask dilemma, panicking about the sociocultural implications as well as the long term consequences of fear fueled movements and interactions, I pull out my sewing machine and search the house for unclaimed material. Everything from leftover hockey skate laces (I always loved those colors and patterns and am grateful that my daughter chose that sport during her middle and high school years), to my husband’s dress shirts with worn out cuffs but otherwise perfectly white crisp fabric, to a t-shirt from a performance I directed…, and so it begins.
Two feverish days with too much coffee, too loud music, different masks for different friends under my hands and the hum of the sewing machine, and I find myself creating these social sculptures for us to put away the flesh and to get ready for the ball —the dance between the isles of produce, eggs and baking supplies. All this in the service of containing the micro sized organisms that potentially threaten our very existence.
Perhaps you will enjoy this cavalcade of masks for the ball. Perhaps it will inspire your next masquerade.
“You translate everything, whether physical, mental or spiritual, into muscular tension.” F.M. Alexander
