My
Dad was a big fan of the Myers-Briggs personality tests, and while I consistently
scored off-the-charts for “intuitive-feeling-judging”, I was always right on the
line between introvert and extrovert.
Pop pegged me for an extrovert at that time, however, because to him the
ultimate determination is whether or not you derive your greatest energy from
being alone or being social. And while I
would still say that being around the right people is definitely my greatest
source of energy, at the age I am now I would also say that my greatest inner strength
comes from being alone.
There
is so much chatter in the world; endless ways to “connect” with people near and
far and like anything, it can be a blessing or a curse. I avoided social media quite assiduously
until just a year ago and the culture shock of pervasive online socialization was quite
alarming to me. I have always been a
call “screener” (remember the old answering machines where you could hear the
message being left?) and this annoyed people (my Mom) to no end. But eventually they (Mom) got it: I am a very
socially engaged person when I want to be, but when I don’t want to be? You really don’t want to know me.
Of
course we all have those special people in our lives that we literally just
cannot get sick of; Iris Murdoch’s (holla!) wonderful description of love as
the quality of being “inexhaustible” to each other is beautifully true. But these connections are unique and sacred;
for the most part we are all susceptible to seriously getting on each other’s
nerves. And then there are the people
who simply rub us the wrong way, no matter what they do. They are kind of like our sacred people’s
equal and opposite; just as uncommon, and just as necessary.
As
I’ve mentioned here before, I am going through a difficult phase in my journey
right now. My sacred people are by my
side through it, and their counterparts are exacerbating my pain, as is their
function. The one phrase I find myself
uttering out loud unbidden on a consistent basis is “I want to be left
alone”. Due to my current circumstances,
this is in part influenced by the “behavioral sink” I am experiencing in having
very little private time. But there is
also a more energetic aspect to it—I want to be left alone to figure things
out, to have some head space to myself, to make decisions without outside
influence.
I
am going to pick on my Mom a little bit more here (don’t worry, she can take
it) because she has that classic “fixer” personality. Like all good mothers, she hates nothing more
than to see her children in pain; her typical response to our sadness was to
try to “fix” or jolly us out of it. I
don’t know about you, but my LEAST favorite response to being in pain is
someone urging me to be jolly. I
understand the impulse too well, however; and I am certain I have been guilty
of employing the same tactic on others.
But
when we are under high stress circumstances, we are literally walking a tightrope
with no net; the need for balance and caution and concentration are
extreme. The last thing on earth we need
is someone telling us we need to smile or handing us more things to juggle on
the high wire. We need to be left alone
to complete the journey across the chasm.
The most interesting part of it for me is how much quicker I became
accustomed to the “risk” factor (no net) than the stress factor. This is a very good lesson to remember in
happier, more productive times, so we don’t let stress dissuade us from taking
healthy risks.
I
recently had a conversation with my Mother about all the elements that are swirling
about me, and she listened patiently then said, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.” Believe it or not, that was music to my ears;
she was just accepting where I am at and letting me be here. She was standing by my side while leaving me
“alone”. It is good to have companions
who let you be without interference or recrimination. When you don’t know what to do, it is ironically helpful to
have someone else validate that place instead of pushing you towards random action
just to be doing something.
Just
being is doing something, you know. All
the great philosophers have confirmed this.
Sometimes being feels effortless and light; sometimes onerous and
excruciating. But that’s the inherent
design of living. Our culture promotes
“the good times” while only capitalizing on “bad times” for fear-based gain. We don’t honor our pain, grief, tumult as we
should; it is almost considered a shameful experience that must be hustled
through.
My
Father loved The Road Less Travelled by
M. Scott Peck and quoted it frequently.
Peck believed that depression* is part of a healthy life because in
order to grow, we must be willing to give things we love up, especially parts
of our self which no longer serve. That
tightrope we walk during the process teaches balance; balance increases our
flexibility.
Depression
and sadness can be our greatest teachers, if only we don’t try to drown them
out or “fix” them. This is part of
experiencing life whole; the retreat into the self for healing and
transformation. So when we are allowed
to be in the cocoon of our pain with compassion, we do the hard work of
becoming more. More ourselves, more
flexible and therefore more free. We
don’t ever move past what we don’t allow; allowing pain is the only way to
healthily release it.So when I say “I just want to be left alone” I mean I want to be allowed to be where I am at; I want to be accepted this way too, not just when I am happy, strong and vibrant. This is who I am today and that has got to be okay. Self-acceptance is not a fair-weather friend. It means every minute of every day you understand that you are valid and how you feel is your truth.