“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”
This is the mantra of countless human beings. We would much rather people look at the manicured, manufactured, polished product version of ourselves, while we hide behind the curtain, pulling all the rights levers and pressing all the right buttons.
The celebrity who only talks through her publicist is hiding behind the curtain.
The boss who only sends email memos and avoids talking to her employees in person is hiding behind the curtain.
The graphic designer who makes assembly line, safe ad content for his clients, while leaving all his passionate, more risky projects in a secret folder on his desktop is hiding behind the curtain.
Anytime we choose to present what we think will make us popular or powerful over presenting who we really are, we are hiding behind the curtain. The problem is, in a world so run down with bells and whistles and spectacle, we are much more interested in the man behind the curtain. He (or she) is vulnerable, quirky, human, and capable of true connection. This makes him, or her, so much more valuable.
The man behind the curtain may not feel like the great and powerful Oz. She may not fit other people’s expectation of what the wizard should be. But the man behind the curtain has something far more rare and interesting.
A soul.
This is the mantra of countless human beings. We would much rather people look at the manicured, manufactured, polished product version of ourselves, while we hide behind the curtain, pulling all the rights levers and pressing all the right buttons.
The celebrity who only talks through her publicist is hiding behind the curtain.
The boss who only sends email memos and avoids talking to her employees in person is hiding behind the curtain.
The graphic designer who makes assembly line, safe ad content for his clients, while leaving all his passionate, more risky projects in a secret folder on his desktop is hiding behind the curtain.
Anytime we choose to present what we think will make us popular or powerful over presenting who we really are, we are hiding behind the curtain. The problem is, in a world so run down with bells and whistles and spectacle, we are much more interested in the man behind the curtain. He (or she) is vulnerable, quirky, human, and capable of true connection. This makes him, or her, so much more valuable.
The man behind the curtain may not feel like the great and powerful Oz. She may not fit other people’s expectation of what the wizard should be. But the man behind the curtain has something far more rare and interesting.
A soul.
