Why Breaking the 4th Wall Sparks Belonging

When I was 25 years old, and a newly certified yoga instructor, I participated in a 10-day silent meditation retreat while I was solo-backpacking in India. The word “retreat” makes it sound glamorous; it was anything but. On the first day of the retreat, the staff took my phone, passport and cash (I promise it’s legit), and went through the rules. These included no speaking to anyone and no eye contact for 10 days. Each day, we meditated in a large meditation hall from about 4:30am to 9pm, with breaks for food in between. Despite being a hyper-active New Yorker, I did pretty well. I took the self-imposed challenge very seriously, and I followed all the rules. Even the Buddhist vow we had to take that says we cannot harm another living being. So, I kindly, silently escorted the scorpions out of my tiny, heatless, cement room each night. 

While I appreciated the structure and discipline the retreat’s rules taught me, at times it felt awkward not to acknowledge the other hundred or so human beings sitting with me in silence each day. And by day #9, I began to feel a little loopy. No human contact does that to you. You know when you were a kid and you stayed up too late with your friends and at some point everything suddenly seems hilarious? I felt like that. So you can imagine that on the afternoon of day #9, when I was sitting there like a good meditating soldier, observing my thoughts and minding my own business, and someone next to me let out the loudest, whoopie-cushion style fart…I struggled to keep my composure. 

I heard the fart and we all collectively ignored it, because you know, rules and social grace and maturity or whatever. Then it happened again *makes fart sound*, and I paused, and let out a little snort of laughter. Then there was another pause, and then one of the guys on the boys’ side let out a little snort of laughter. And then I snorted again, and then like an avalanche, the entire meditation hall erupted into howling laughter. We couldn’t get a hold of ourselves. I was fighting tears, my belly hurt. The facilitator was up on the stage yelling at us, “contain yourselves!” You might be surprised to know that in addition to talking and eye contact, laughing at farts was also not allowed. Finally one of the volunteers came to escort me out of the hall until I could pull it together. 

But you know what? I wasn’t sorry. Because after we finished the 10-day silent...or “silent-ish”...retreat the next day, I tell ya what, I was the most popular backpacker that side of the Himalayas. My new friends could not stop talking about that moment of joy. The moment when I snorted at that woman’s fart, the veil that was separating each of us from one another had dropped. Through laughter, I acknowledged what was really going on--a communal truth. I named the collective presence that we all shared. That somebody farted, and it was funny. 

Much like an immersive theater show where the 4th wall is dropped between audience and actor, in our laughter, we as passive, soldier-like observers became engaged participants in our own communal experience. We felt like we belonged. Ironically, for the first time in 10 days after trying to follow the rules in order to be present. Who knew farts could hold such power? 

I believe that when we break down the 4th wall–which we’ll dive more deeply into later on–that separates us from one another, we get over ourselves, and open the door to a deeper sense of belonging. 

Before we go any further, you may be asking, what is “the 4th wall,” exactly? 

“The 4th wall” is a term used in theater that refers to the social contract that creates an imaginary barrier between the performer and their audience. It serves to separate us for the sake of comfort, so that we can all agree that Romeo and Juliette are in another world on the stage--not our world. They merely exist for our entertainment. Similarly, in the classroom, the teacher for our education, or in a boardroom, the presenter for our training. Have you ever walked into a room full of people you’re presenting to and said, “Hi everyone! How’s it going?” only to endure awkward silence? Or hosted a Zoom call where it feels like you’re speaking to a wall because nobody feels comfortable turning on their cameras? That’s the 4th wall. 

This social contract momentarily frees us from the responsibility to fully engage with what’s going on in our shared reality. And sometimes, that’s awesome. Sometimes, we want to disengage and observe, and learn, and have our own individual experience, sans the risk of being called to the stage. But, sometimes, the rules that keep us feeling safe are the same rules that prevent us from truly connecting. 

Show of figurative hands–(or I mean, if you want to raise your hand as you’re sitting in front of your computer right now, go for it)--who saw the Barbie movie? Everyone? Cool.

You’ll remember that in the Barbie Movie, there was a scene where can played guitar AT Barbie. Not for her, or with her, but specifically at her. This created an invisible–but palpable–obstruction between Barbie and Ken, turning what could have been a connective moment of shared belonging into a…performance–which is perfect at a Romeo and Juliette production, but a hindrance for our social wellness in our lives.

In order to cultivate a sense of belonging in our modern world, we must find ways to break through the 4th wall in group settings–to acknowledge reality as it is (not as we want it to be) and name the unsaid. Small moments of play or “rule-breaking”--like laughing at a farts in the middle of a meditation class, for example–break down imaginary walls built by “should’s” and serve to get us off autopilot and into the present moment, the only place belonging can be sparked. 

So, the next time you find yourself leading a corporate team-building event, company off-site, conference activity, or networking event where it feels like your participants are disengaged, it’s likely because they feel like Barbie on the receiving end of Ken’s guitar-playing. Put down the figurative guitar, stop “performing” and start participating by introducing a game or activity, a story, or simply by stating the obvious–(Ex: “Is it just me, or is the room we’re in remind you of the school in The Breakfast Club?)

You’ll be amazed at how quickly your people will shed their own 4th walls and open up to the possibility of feeling like they belong with you, your brand and your shared goals as soon as you give them permission to by letting your guard down, first.