In Yue (Cantonese) Opera there is a concept called 虎度门 (hǔ dù mén in Mandarin, but fu2 dou6 mun4 in Cantonese). The concept translates literally to “tiger crossing gate” and generally refers to the stage door. I could nerd out for a long time on what this means and how it came to be, but I’ll just do a summary to tie it in to your autistic masking.
See, the “tiger crossing gate” is a notional barrier. On one side of it is you. On the other side is the character you’re playing. When you cross that 虎度门 threshold, it is a powerful symbolic transition from your (usually meek, unassuming) self into the (strong, tiger-like) character you’re going to play in one direction, and naturally in the reverse it’s the transition back to you.
Feeling any echoes yet with your autistic masking?
If I’m at all autistic, I’m barely on the spectrum at the extreme high function end. What I am, however, is an extreme introvert. I have to wear masks too, you see, to interact with people. Studied masks of energetic interactions. And I find 虎度门, a term I picked up while minoring in drama and watching a metric shit-ton of Chinese operas, a very useful abstraction to push myself onto a stage to present a character to people: whether that character was a literal character in a Shakespeare production, or the character of a poised professional market consultant telling clients what’s what in my day job.
So really, give acting a try. It’s a lot of fun, and the tools you already use are perfect for the task at hand in acting: slipping into another’s head.
You should try. You might be really good at it.
In Yue (Cantonese) Opera there is a concept called 虎度门 (hǔ dù mén in Mandarin, but fu2 dou6 mun4 in Cantonese). The concept translates literally to “tiger crossing gate” and generally refers to the stage door. I could nerd out for a long time on what this means and how it came to be, but I’ll just do a summary to tie it in to your autistic masking.
See, the “tiger crossing gate” is a notional barrier. On one side of it is you. On the other side is the character you’re playing. When you cross that 虎度门 threshold, it is a powerful symbolic transition from your (usually meek, unassuming) self into the (strong, tiger-like) character you’re going to play in one direction, and naturally in the reverse it’s the transition back to you.
Feeling any echoes yet with your autistic masking?
If I’m at all autistic, I’m barely on the spectrum at the extreme high function end. What I am, however, is an extreme introvert. I have to wear masks too, you see, to interact with people. Studied masks of energetic interactions. And I find 虎度门, a term I picked up while minoring in drama and watching a metric shit-ton of Chinese operas, a very useful abstraction to push myself onto a stage to present a character to people: whether that character was a literal character in a Shakespeare production, or the character of a poised professional market consultant telling clients what’s what in my day job.
So really, give acting a try. It’s a lot of fun, and the tools you already use are perfect for the task at hand in acting: slipping into another’s head.