I’m an Introvert and it’s OK

Shhhh. I stole time for myself. Peace. Quiet.

For a few days, I retreated from the world and had no idea how much I needed the solitude. I’m an introvert by nature and getting away is virtually impossible with family and work life. But here I am.

Before I left, a lovely young client of mine told me how she had been put off when a friend told her she needed “to get out more and have more friends.” She was right to feel annoyed. It’s not her nature. We introverts have become accustomed to a number of “friends,” ratings and rankings. More is better.

It’s not. Yet, this is one of the challenges of our modern culture: extroverts are rewarded. We get caught up in being busy and doing, doing and doing. This feeds into a false sense of a purposeful life.

It took me a good 24 hours to adjust to the sounds of silence. I’m not vacationing. I’m writing a book proposal. It’s a commitment I made to myself years ago. A soul commitment. Yet, when I looked at the year ahead, I thought how in the world can I write every day? I already write daily for superficial or tactical reasons. Mostly emails, sadly. It’s depleting. My younger daughter once asked me a powerful question. It was bedtime on a school night and she asked if I’d come up and say good night. I replied that I’d be right there, but I just needed to send out one more email. She looked at me quizzically and asked, “Is writing emails your job, mom?”

One colleague, when she learned I’d be off the grid said “Wow, that’s discipline.” But it seems more akin to desperation. In my life, I practice mindfulness and have a morning ritual that grounds me. Yet, extracting myself to a far corner of the coast – where the weather is brisk and bright, and snow still lingers – has been a much needed dose for restoration and focus. It feeds my shy disposition, allows for self-reflection and inspires creativity.

Brené Brown writes about the necessity for creativity. She notes that we are all creative people, but some of us use our creativity and others don’t. “Unused creativity isn’t benign. It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.” That can sound harsh to some or be a call to action for others. Brown also points out that “the only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world will be born of our creativity.”

And this just pulls at my heart.

In the end I’ve realized I can’t “steal away” moment for silence and creativity. Nope, these moments are necessary to open the heart.