Adam McHugh writes in his book Introverts in the Church, "Introverts (especially those who score high in the 'thinking' category of the Myers-Briggs) treat our ideas like friends, devoting the same energy and time to them. Likewise, we consider books and authors as mentors, or as midwives to our most profound ideas."
I've felt this way my whole life.
My ideas and I have a relationship of sorts. You might find that weird (or maybe you're secretly saying, me too!). I remember, even as a child, climbing to the top of a corkscrew willow tree in my backyard and spending hours with my thoughts. Silence is never silent when my brain is present. There's a give and take that happens in the wide open places of my mind--a conversation of sorts. It's almost as if my ideas are an entity of their own, surprising even me as they take shape.
I can never relate when people talk about being bored by too much alone time, like hating to drive long distances all alone. I love any time that I get to spend with my ideas; the longer the time the better the conversation.
Even if some think so, I'm not talking about reclusive and neurotic behavior. I love a good conversation with another person too. But, as an Introvert, I am energized and refreshed from the inside out. It's how I can drive alone for six hours and feel energized when I arrive at my destination, or sit in a class for hours on end and not need to get up for a break. I feel most centered, most alive, when my ideas and I get to spend time together...good quality time.
It's the balance that is hard to find in life. Later in the same paragraph, McHugh writes "While extroverts may gauge their day by the quality of interactions and experiences they had, introverts often gauge their day by the thoughts and reflections they had." There are so many relationships vying for time and attention, the invisible ones in my head can be the easiest to ignore. But then I find myself feeling shallow and unimaginative, just going through the repetition of every day.
I can't abandon life and ministry for a monastery (however tempting it seems), but I do need to make space in life for my ideas to ground me in what it all means. Without it I am an empty shell, lacking the best part of me to share with the world.
I don't have a favorite tree to climb anymore and I have a three-year-old running around constantly, but in the moments where I retreat to a coffee shop to write, and watch people, you'll see the light slowly come back to my face. It's where my ideas and I have a reunion of sorts and we are all better for having spent time with one another.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
INTJs Are Like Onions
Ever seen Shrek? As an INTJ woman I identify with Shrek and Donkey's conversation in which Shrek claims, "Ogres are like onions!" Listen in, but, in your mind, replace "ogres" with INTJs!
Donkey totally misunderstands! "They stink?" "Oh, they make you cry?" "Oh, ya leave 'em out in the sun and they get all brown and start sprouting little white hairs?" All of which, perhaps not the hair-sprouting part, has surely been said about INTJs! "No!" Shrek yells, "they have layers!"
We're known for being difficult to read and are certainly not the most adept of all types with people, but what most people don't see is that if you peel us back in layers we have all sorts of hidden treasures!
As is the case with most Introverts, the best parts of us are hidden below the surface. Our hold-the-world-at-arms-length approach to life makes it hard for others to see what's in our hearts and minds...but there is a lot in there!
Here is an non-exhaustive list of things it would be nice for non-INTJs to know (although, we're OK if you don't want to take note of it...we still know we're awesome):
INTJs are passionate people. On the outside we are a pillar of silence and strength. On the inside our minds are like tornadoes and our resolve is unstoppable. When we care about something or someone, it is deep and meaningful. We have strong feelings, we just hold them very close and only let them out in the presence of someone we trust.
INTJs are pretty funny. Perhaps our sense of humor is a little dry, or maybe too morbid for your taste, but every INTJ I know appreciates a good laugh (sometimes we're laughing on the inside). More often than not our best material is saved for ourselves, our very closest friends, or our writing...but it's there, and it's FUNNY!
INTJs search constantly for improvement! You might feel this in our sometimes critical nature, but what we're really getting at is making everything better, stronger, and more effective! This includes ourselves. We might not readily admit our faults but deep down we know we have them and look for ways to improve ourselves too.
INTJs are not above feeling lonely. Even when we pretend that we don't need anyone, we have a desire to connect deeply with people. But, when small talk is like a foreign language it makes building relationships a challenge! This is especially true for INTJ women--being less than 1% of the population means that we don't find too many kindred spirits out there, and when we do, they are usually male, which complicates things.
INTJs are like onions! Yes, sometimes we stink, and make people cry, but what we're really trying to say is that what you see is not all you'll get with an INTJ. Peel back the layers and you'll find a complex and, we do say so ourselves, pretty spectacular individual!
Donkey totally misunderstands! "They stink?" "Oh, they make you cry?" "Oh, ya leave 'em out in the sun and they get all brown and start sprouting little white hairs?" All of which, perhaps not the hair-sprouting part, has surely been said about INTJs! "No!" Shrek yells, "they have layers!"
We're known for being difficult to read and are certainly not the most adept of all types with people, but what most people don't see is that if you peel us back in layers we have all sorts of hidden treasures!
As is the case with most Introverts, the best parts of us are hidden below the surface. Our hold-the-world-at-arms-length approach to life makes it hard for others to see what's in our hearts and minds...but there is a lot in there!
Here is an non-exhaustive list of things it would be nice for non-INTJs to know (although, we're OK if you don't want to take note of it...we still know we're awesome):
INTJs are passionate people. On the outside we are a pillar of silence and strength. On the inside our minds are like tornadoes and our resolve is unstoppable. When we care about something or someone, it is deep and meaningful. We have strong feelings, we just hold them very close and only let them out in the presence of someone we trust.
INTJs are pretty funny. Perhaps our sense of humor is a little dry, or maybe too morbid for your taste, but every INTJ I know appreciates a good laugh (sometimes we're laughing on the inside). More often than not our best material is saved for ourselves, our very closest friends, or our writing...but it's there, and it's FUNNY!
INTJs search constantly for improvement! You might feel this in our sometimes critical nature, but what we're really getting at is making everything better, stronger, and more effective! This includes ourselves. We might not readily admit our faults but deep down we know we have them and look for ways to improve ourselves too.
INTJs are not above feeling lonely. Even when we pretend that we don't need anyone, we have a desire to connect deeply with people. But, when small talk is like a foreign language it makes building relationships a challenge! This is especially true for INTJ women--being less than 1% of the population means that we don't find too many kindred spirits out there, and when we do, they are usually male, which complicates things.
INTJs are like onions! Yes, sometimes we stink, and make people cry, but what we're really trying to say is that what you see is not all you'll get with an INTJ. Peel back the layers and you'll find a complex and, we do say so ourselves, pretty spectacular individual!
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Full Disclosure
This one's for the ladies.
Yesterday, I had to go to the doctor's for a physical and I decided I might as well double up the joy with a long over due "Well Woman" appointment.
"Well Woman" gives the impression of a quiet morning drinking coffee and reading a book in the garden. Ladies, we all know, this is no where near the truth. The nurse points to an unimaginably small pile of folded paper and says, please put these on and the doctor will be in shortly.
Shortly. How long is shortly? I quickly strip down and snatch the paper "clothes" as quickly as possible, imagining that "shortly" means she will open the door as soon as I have no clothes on...probably wide enough that the nurse and patient (probably male) walking by my room will also get a great look at my awesome glory.
Hurriedly, I throw my clothes into a pile and try to arrange the paper for maximum coverage. I pick up my paper "shirt," which is really like a one-size-fits-all vest that doesn't fit all sizes. Pull the flaps closed in front and flesh emerges from the overly large arm holes. Side coverage means, not so much front coverage. That's OK. I have a paper blanket! I carefully sit on the narrow strip of paper on the table (the width of which, like most other aspects of a doctor's visit, encourages me to lose weight) and drape myself in paper. Phew. I beat "shortly," thereby avoiding the embarrassment of full disclosure.
But now, "shortly" stretches into 15 minutes. I am sitting in a relatively warm room wearing nothing but cheap paper. It's about this time that I regret the mad dash to get undressed, as I am now sweating in places no one wants to know about. My paper clothes are sticking to me. I am feeling less "Well" by the second.
FINALLY! The doctor enters. But, first she wants to cover all the questions on my physical form. Does she not know about the paper and the sweat? When she listens to my lungs, pressing the stethoscope to my back, all I can think about is the fact that my paper vest only comes down to my waist and a blanket draped in front leaves the rear exposed. I'm feeling less like a "Woman" and more like an embarrassed girl. Oh well, I tell myself to get over it...I'm sure the doctor has seen much worse.
Then comes the best part...details to be excluded...but it does mean we are nearing the end of this unwell experience and I can finally put my real clothes on (ones that cover ALL necessary parts and don't make me sweat profusely).
The good news: since I'm almost 30 I can, by doctor's recommendation, endure this humiliation every three years! Which, I interpreted to mean, "I'll see you in three to five years!" Apparently, there are benefits to being old...even if having wrinkles AND acne at the SAME time aren't among them.
Yesterday, I had to go to the doctor's for a physical and I decided I might as well double up the joy with a long over due "Well Woman" appointment.
"Well Woman" gives the impression of a quiet morning drinking coffee and reading a book in the garden. Ladies, we all know, this is no where near the truth. The nurse points to an unimaginably small pile of folded paper and says, please put these on and the doctor will be in shortly.
Shortly. How long is shortly? I quickly strip down and snatch the paper "clothes" as quickly as possible, imagining that "shortly" means she will open the door as soon as I have no clothes on...probably wide enough that the nurse and patient (probably male) walking by my room will also get a great look at my awesome glory.
Hurriedly, I throw my clothes into a pile and try to arrange the paper for maximum coverage. I pick up my paper "shirt," which is really like a one-size-fits-all vest that doesn't fit all sizes. Pull the flaps closed in front and flesh emerges from the overly large arm holes. Side coverage means, not so much front coverage. That's OK. I have a paper blanket! I carefully sit on the narrow strip of paper on the table (the width of which, like most other aspects of a doctor's visit, encourages me to lose weight) and drape myself in paper. Phew. I beat "shortly," thereby avoiding the embarrassment of full disclosure.
But now, "shortly" stretches into 15 minutes. I am sitting in a relatively warm room wearing nothing but cheap paper. It's about this time that I regret the mad dash to get undressed, as I am now sweating in places no one wants to know about. My paper clothes are sticking to me. I am feeling less "Well" by the second.
FINALLY! The doctor enters. But, first she wants to cover all the questions on my physical form. Does she not know about the paper and the sweat? When she listens to my lungs, pressing the stethoscope to my back, all I can think about is the fact that my paper vest only comes down to my waist and a blanket draped in front leaves the rear exposed. I'm feeling less like a "Woman" and more like an embarrassed girl. Oh well, I tell myself to get over it...I'm sure the doctor has seen much worse.
Then comes the best part...details to be excluded...but it does mean we are nearing the end of this unwell experience and I can finally put my real clothes on (ones that cover ALL necessary parts and don't make me sweat profusely).
The good news: since I'm almost 30 I can, by doctor's recommendation, endure this humiliation every three years! Which, I interpreted to mean, "I'll see you in three to five years!" Apparently, there are benefits to being old...even if having wrinkles AND acne at the SAME time aren't among them.
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