In the last few weeks, that phrase garnered several blank stares, rolling eyes, and sighs of disbelief. There were even frustrated yet juvenile attempts at emotional manipulation. It got me thinking why an introvert’s response to social invitations received such cavalier and crass reactions. One would think that after many books and TED talks on the topic, personality types and corresponding needs would be well understood. But apparently they are not. At least not in this part of the world.
So, perhaps an explanation is in order.
I’m an introvert in an extrovert job. This year the one job became several. They all require constant interaction with a myriad of ages and personalities. For nearly 10 hours a day, it is an endless stream of human chatter much of which requires responses in some manner to avoid accusations of impoliteness or worse, arrogance.
To do the jobs requires stepping outside of my comfort zone on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. It is terribly draining on the body, mind, and soul. Add additional admin responsibilities on top of the stresses of playing an outgoing character who needs varying levels of social confidence depending on the class being taught, and it’s a recipe for a life on constant fatigue. It has now become the default setting. Tiredness.
It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when the jobs were fatiguing but that fatigue didn’t become an MO. In those days, perhaps there was a good balance of solitude time to recharge. But there were various new professional goals set this year to practice inclusion. It came from a good place despite the consequences being ill-conceived. At one point there was a move to trial a more diversified existence - one that involved interacting with other people more regularly. It was fine in the beginning. Then it all became too much. The results of that trial have left me thinking of Henry David Thoreau’s Walden: “I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”
It’s time to retreat again. To go back to a place of silence and calm. To recharge. The jobs are works of joy so they will carry on. They must. The rest is optional and perhaps seasonal so they will be amended. Some Mesolithic tribes practiced the art of seasonality where their ways of living changed according to the season. Some seasons required interacting with others, some seasons required solitude.
Perhaps they were on to something. Practicing seasonality. It’s the season for rest.