Let’s Talk About Theater

In the short history of this blog, this has been the longest break I’ve taken from writing anything meant to stimulate the reader’s mind—beyond the daily reactive struggle with reality. The topic I want to explore today had been maturing in my mind for the past few months. What inspired it was the first half of 2023, which I spent on musical tours, watching actors perform their roles every day in various theaters, community centers, and concert halls.

Although my entire professional story originates from theater—which, years ago, changed my perception of reality and reshaped many of my core beliefs—the observations I made in recent months took time to fully settle. They weren’t obvious to me at first. So let’s dive into the depths of human nature and the roles we play—not only on stage, but also in the theater of everyday life, where each of us performs a unique part.

“You must at all costs alter your perspective. Learn to ignore the masks that people present, the myths they surround themselves with, and instead probe into their character traits. You can see them in the patterns of their past, in the quality of their decisions, how they solve problems, how they delegate authority, how they work with others, and countless other signals they emit. A person of strong character is like gold—rare and priceless. This is someone who adapts, learns, and improves. And because your success depends on those you work with and for, pay close attention to their character early on. You’ll save yourself the misery of discovering it when it’s too late.”

— Robert Greene, The Laws of Human Nature

“This chain of domestication, linking one person to another and one generation to the next, is absolutely normal in human society. You shouldn’t blame your parents for teaching you to be like them. What else could they teach you but what they themselves knew? They did the best they could. And if they enslaved you, it happened because of their own domestication, their own fears and beliefs. They had no control over the program installed in them, so they couldn’t act differently. There is no need to blame parents or anyone else who bound you in life, including yourself.”

— Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom

These two quotes are vastly different, from books of entirely different character, yet they share something essential: they both show that within our personalities lies something much deeper than what we expose to the world day-to-day. The words “person” and “personality” derive from the Latin persona, meaning “mask.”

It seems completely natural that each of us wears a mask as a kind of protective barrier from the world and from other people. We play roles in the theater of our own lives, changing these masks depending on what we’re doing. One mask at work, another on the street, a different one with our parents, and yet another wherever we can’t fully express our truth and the essence of who we are on the level at which we feel and perceive the world.

Since the dawn of time, we as a society have also been drawn to watching events in which the protagonists put on masks to play their roles. We, as attentive observers, are able to assess and sense whether someone is lying or telling the truth, loving or hating, acting with pure intentions or hidden agendas. We enjoy watching and being aware that from the place of observation—be it the theater, the big screen, or the comfort of our own homes—we can dive deeper into the identity of the character we’re watching, and in some way compare them to ourselves and our own moral values, which often remain invisible to the outside world.

We hide our desires, suppress the darker parts of ourselves, and fear judgment and rejection. We don't want to be seen as outsiders to the accepted norms. So we find it easier, more comfortable, to swap masks—to have a set ready for any situation—rather than confront who we really are, who we want to be, and what we wish to bring to the world. But if we look closely, we are no different from the actors we watch. Only our stage and the timing of our performances are not as clearly defined as those in a ticketed event.

Working on a touring musical production has undeniable charm—new theaters, different stages, new countries, and fascinating people all around. There’s something beautiful in seeing how this mobile caravan of artists, technicians, costume designers, and marketing folks comes together in each location to create the same musical. Each of them contributes a piece of themselves, knowing that when the ovation comes, it’s not just for those on stage, but also subconsciously for every single person without whom the show couldn’t have happened.

Yet there is a certain intangible aura that makes each performance completely unique, even though it follows the same script, the same set design, lighting composition, and music. Someone who attends such a play just once—because it happens to be performed in their city—has no way of noticing these nuances, as they only see a narrow slice of the whole that we can truly call a theatrical event.

As the person responsible for safely preparing the stage structure for each performance, I was the first to step onto the stage and the last to leave it, which gave me the opportunity to watch virtually every show on the tour I was working on. After seeing the same performance 35 times from the audience’s perspective, I felt like I knew it better than the artistic director. And by the 60th show, I could catch even the slightest change in the dialogue or subtle shifts in the overall energy of the play when the same role was performed by different actors.

This is standard practice in such productions — to ensure that, if needed, any role can be played by someone else. In reference to today’s theme, the same mask worn for the same purpose by a completely different person dramatically alters the final impact of the role being portrayed. Because beyond the costume and rehearsed lines, what we’re really witnessing is the unique expression of an individual.

I spent a long time reflecting on what insights could be drawn from this observation—one that’s impossible to grasp from the perspective of a single audience member, but which became part of my daily reality while doing this job. As the tour went on, visiting new places week after week to bring people a bit of entertainment, I began taking my observations a step further. I started to closely watch how the actors' personal traits shaped the way they expressed the characters they were portraying on a given day.

During a months-long tour like this, you get to see everyone in the theater family from many different angles—catching them in various moods, across all kinds of situations. And more often than not, the actor you’d see backstage would be in a completely different emotional state than the role they were about to perform on stage.

Such non-verbal elements as one's disposition toward others, worldview, openness, or tendency to withdraw in everyday life, have a direct impact on how expression plays out on stage. And when you add a role tailored specifically to a particular person, you get a kind of recipe for success—one that is ultimately rewarded with standing ovations, because the audience receives perfectly matched masks worn by those meant to wear them. The whole performance is wrapped in dialogue, dance, song, and enriched with a composition of colors, sounds, and stage design. A perfect blend, the result of which is the magic of theater—a magic that can only come to life thanks to the entire technical crew working behind the scenes, out of the audience’s sight. Yet one show cannot exist without the other; neither would ever reach the form presented to those buying tickets.

My main conclusion after months of observing people and the roles they played—both on and off stage, within a repetitive process—is that the quality of any given production, both what happens on stage and behind the scenes, is closely tied to how well we feel in the mask we choose to wear. Do we feel that it fits us perfectly and helps us, through its form, express what we want to radiate into the world? Or do we feel that it chafes and restricts our true, natural expression?

If each actor plays a role in which they feel truly at home, the stage becomes a place of pure magic—of performing for the pleasure of others, fueled by the joy of wearing a mask that fits them perfectly. It’s an unspoken connection of flow, ease, and presence, one that reaches the audience’s senses and draws them into a trance-like state of reception as each sequence unfolds. On the other hand, when an actor has to step in last-minute for a sick colleague and take on a role they don’t fully connect with—a role where the mask just doesn’t fit as well—their energy loses that natural freedom. And when several actors have to wear masks not meant for them on the same night, what the audience experiences is an entirely different performance.

The differences won’t be noticeable to audience members watching the performance for the first—and likely last—time. For them, everything will seem perfectly fine. But for me, seeing it for the 45th time, it will feel completely off—something that doesn’t flow, where the masks worn on stage no longer reflect the actor’s free expression, but instead feel forced and uncomfortable.

We can’t avoid wearing masks in life, because the complexity of the world around us demands different attitudes, different behaviors—a kind of flexibility in how we are and how we act. But that doesn’t mean we have to pretend to be someone we’re not just to cope with reality. Through my professional experience, I’ve had the chance to observe how the quality of work is directly affected by whether someone is in the right place—which also means whether they’re wearing a mask that doesn’t pinch. A work environment made up of people like that becomes a truly pleasant space, where you can genuinely feel good—even while spending time together day in and day out for several uninterrupted months.

Just like an actor who can freely and effortlessly express themselves on stage, anyone who works in a way that aligns with who they truly are will ultimately achieve a completely different outcome than someone who feels uncomfortable or simply doesn't care about what they’re doing.

I believe I’ve outlined my line of reasoning quite clearly and thoroughly based on my theatrical observations. Now, I’d like to expand this concept a bit further—translating the magic of the theater into our everyday lives, where each of us wears masks known only to ourselves. What are the long-term implications when something doesn’t quite fit? When our life potential isn’t freely expressed, and the masks we choose to wear are dictated by external circumstances or values we follow—not because they are truly ours, but because someone else instilled them in us?

The first quote at the beginning of this text encourages us to look beyond what others around us say—to reach past words, artificial facades, or attributes people often use to strengthen the roles they play. When we wear masks that don’t fit us, we stop being authentic. We start performing roles in which our way of being is no longer fluid or natural—it becomes merely a mimicry of ourselves, pushing aside who we truly want to be deep down. In such cases, our nonverbal gestures, our ways of behaving, our attitude toward others—these often begin to reflect our true nature, one that is quite different from the persona we’re trying to play.

Only we ourselves truly know whether something is bothering us or if we’re moving freely and with ease. No matter what we try to hide, there will always be moments that expose us—moments when even the most carefully crafted mask begins to reveal our true face. We need to realize that, in today’s world, we’re navigating an artificial and manufactured reality—one built by people who have mastered the art of playing their roles.

Today, the most valuable currency in the world is human attention. When directed and focused with intention, it can generate immense profits for any company trying to sell something. But what lies on the other side? What causes our attention to stop where someone wants it to? Whether it’s a phone, a computer screen, a TV, or any other medium—the pattern is the same: show people a mask that grabs their interest and holds their focus.

That’s the foundation of everything today. It has to be fast, colorful, stimulating—and preferably thoughtless—so the viewer doesn’t have time to realize they’re watching a carefully staged performance, with actors who have nothing in common with the personas they present. Everywhere we look, we see masks. And the worst part is, by constantly consuming this theater of illusion and pretense, we slowly forget who we really are—what our character wants, what demons it hides, and who it truly longs to be on the one-of-a-kind stage of its own life.

Let us always strive to go deeper in the process of understanding the reality that surrounds us—shifting our focus from the surface-level beauty woven with threads of illusion toward truth in its full spectrum, which can help us better understand the character we are playing in our own lives.

The above paragraphs are a direct reflection of my personal interpretation of the first quote. But it’s in the second quote that we can go deeper and ask ourselves: why is it that we are capable of spending years—or even an entire lifetime—embodying attitudes and roles that don’t reflect our true selves?

From the earliest years of our lives, our subconscious absorbs quite literally everything that surrounds us. Based on this input, it builds a perception of reality that will later serve as a kind of blueprint for how we move through the world. Every word spoken to us, every situation we experienced as children left an imprint in our minds—an imprint that helped shape the mask of our personality.

I don’t want to delve here into specific patterns, stories, negatives or positives—those will differ for each of us, in various proportions and with varying consequences. But at some point, we’ve all asked—or will ask—ourselves questions like: Who am I? Why am I like this? Who do I want to become? Yet without understanding what shaped us and how it affected us, none of the answers we come up with will be fully true.

The goal shouldn't be to place blame or to hold onto pain stemming from circumstances we had no control over, but rather to fully understand and define each of those elements so they can serve as reference points for better understanding ourselves. Once we thoroughly examine the masks worn by our previous reality, we gain the ability to assess how deeply we may have been misled—or conversely, how beautiful the stage we’ve been given truly is. Regardless of where we find ourselves between those two extremes, the greatest reward is arriving at an honest answer to the questions posed earlier. And that, in turn, can open up an entire spectrum of new possibilities on the stage of our own life.

It may sound a bit idyllic, but in my view, recognizing the masks worn by those closest to us—as well as by the generations before us—allows us to release others from responsibility and take into our own hands the power to decide who we want to be. From that point on, we can begin to play with our true character, all the way until our performance reaches its final curtain.

Let us extend full understanding to our loved ones and their entire life stories, because they, too, were shaped by the same external influences that they later passed on to us. It wasn’t out of ill will, but rather the result of deeply ingrained ways of thinking—repeated and passed down automatically, without reflection. From my own experience, I know how liberating it is to understand these patterns on the path of personal growth. It allowed me to reconnect with my true self—the part of me that no longer needs to pretend or wear masks that don’t align with how I want to be for myself and for others. It’s worth reflecting on the essence of our own personal theater—what is real in it, and what is carefully hidden from the world.

In a reality now dominated by artificially constructed correctness, there is less and less room for deviations from the norm—for individual expression, which is being effectively pushed aside by a global, uniform way of being.

Each of us carries a shadow—our fears, desires, goals to fulfill—often hidden beneath a mask that doesn't quite fit, a mask worn to signal belonging to society or to the groups that form our environment. I want to strongly emphasize that reaching a point where we reclaim our true awareness—free from the distortions imposed by external systems of mental indoctrination—opens the path to inner freedom. Consider this my personal appeal to each of you who resonates, even slightly, with what I’ve described in this text. Go deeper on the path of self-discovery. Start expressing yourselves in new ways. Be prepared for the fire of criticism aimed at the process of your transformation. It’s a sign that you’re heading in the right direction.

Open your hearts on the stage of your own life’s theater. It’s worth radiating who we truly want to be for the world—like an actor playing the most important role in their own performance. Let’s dress ourselves in what fits us perfectly, in what naturally and effortlessly expresses who we are. Let the mask we wear be just another color of our personality, not a tool to conceal it.

Focus your attention on what chafes, on what doesn’t belong to you—and never did. Let the process of change become an adventure, allowing you to write new plays in which you simply dance with joy before the audience around you. Become a living expression of transformation, showing others it’s worth reaching into the places that hurt in order to rise higher than the role you’ve been playing has ever allowed.

What it takes isn’t motivation, but strength of character—a force that lies dormant in each of us, ready to be discovered if only we allow it.

P.S. Once again, I turned to AI to help create the visuals for this piece. Midjourney didn’t disappoint, and I’m genuinely fascinated by the possibilities that today’s technology offers. I think the results align quite well with the themes explored in this text.