On being a shy extrovert

"Vulnerability is [...] having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome." -- Brené Brown

Last week I wrote about feeling weary of feeling lonely. The writing of it was very hard to tease out, but - and I keep discovering this - as I pushed though things and disciplined myself to just write (without pressure to publish but just for the sake of doing it), I felt a lot lighter.

I'm not sure what came over me the day after that but in a moment of boldness I later posted on the Year of Creativity Facebook group (and y'all know I do not use Facebook) to introduce myself for the first time (3 months into the year!) and I decided to share my blog. (Many of the ladies have already shared their blogs, published articles, social media accounts, other projects, etc.)

I had yet to speak up on the group and so, in typical me fashion, I typed with trepidation. I couldn't help but share that I'm an Ennegram 6, and that I was thus afraid that publicly sharing my blog would cause me to stop writing.

I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of responses, the encouragement to keep going, and the reassurance that I am not alone.

Apparently I had been keeping these feelings of despair to myself because I didn't want to be a burden to other people. I didn't even want to put the words to paper because I felt like I deserved to feel the burden of it. (Such is the insidious nature of isolation, whether self-imposed or not.)

But now I wonder if the truest form of opening up isn't burdensome to others, but is instead an opportunity for others to see me as I am. It doesn't demand but rather gently invites.

The same evening after I took that step to share myself in internet land, I spontaneously invited two of my neighbors and their kids over to play in our yard after dinner. To my delight, they responded with quick and eager yesses.

The chill had let up a bit as the day had progressed (as is often the case in Seattle), and I exhilarated in the thrill of having friends to chat with on the back deck as we watched the kids play on the grass and the golden glow settled on the cherry blossoms.

After they left, and we put the kids down for bed, I found myself with an unexpected energy as I tidied up the toys and cleared the kitchen.

It was a simple gathering, in which there had been no planning or food (two of my specialties) - although decaf and Bailey's was offered - but which was thoroughly satisfying for me. And while we didn't have super deep and share-all-your-darkest-secrets conversation, I was the most energized I had been in a long time.

Since that evening I've made a simple connection for me that is changing my perspective in this current season of life for me.

The connection pertains to Susan Cain's Quiet, in which the author proposes two dimensions to personality, the introversion-extroversion axis and the orthogonal axis that measures how anxious/calm or stable an individual (whether introverted or extroverted) is.

(This article, also by Cain, maps those axes to the four humors, with which I am very familiar from Stephen Ministry training, and which also explains the nuanced difference between my and David's extroversion.)

The ah-ha moment for me is that I'm an anxious or shy extrovert. (I've always joked that I'm an extroverted homebody, as in, Everybody come to me, but this categorization of Anxious really puts some legs on this thing.)

I love being with people but I dislike putting myself out there. I think this predicament is amplified by being an Enneagram 6. I am excellent at being a chameleon: I wait to see what others think first, so that I can present only the parts of myself that are congruent with them.*

(*I think this is why blogging is super scary for me, because although some close friends know every dimension and plane of me, I am wont to keep different circles of friendships in which I am a certain version of me. This supposedly is to protect me (from ostracization?), but I do it at the expense of authenticity. It sounds sad when I type this out. Sigh.

So when I tell new friends that I have a blog, I sort of cringe and think, "oh no, they are going to read something that reveals a different part of me that I'm afraid they will reject me for." And there are definitely people I want to be friends with with whom I haven't shared my blog because I am afraid of what they will think.)

Naming this disparity for myself - the fact that I get energy from people but I'm shy to be the first to put myself out there - helped me realize how I actually have more control over my life than I thought I did. I may not have control over how many deep and abiding friendships I can secure (intentionally clingy word choice there), but I can take a simple step (which may or not be related) which is to get my extroverted needs met. This - at its simplest - means to to make plans with people, spend time with them, go out and find people. So adultish, but yes, it is, after all, my responsibility to get my needs met.

For when I feel energized I am a more interesting person which ultimately reinforces my efforts to develop deeper community.

So I guess my goal now is to be aware (and accepting) of my need to be with people (just as I respect and support introverts I know who need alone time to recharge) and, with self-compassion, support myself in the quest to fill my days with more friend time. Sounds like a plan, right? (Insert self-five.)

P.S. I just read the chapter in Quiet on Asian-Americans which discusses my hometown Cupertino and even mentions my high school (!). It made me wonder if I have not adjusted my introvert-extrovert scale to a different culture outside of the Bay.

P.P.S. If anyone else is reading Quiet, I hope you'll comment below and/or text me your thoughts. So far, I'm enjoying it, but also struggling with the lack of differentiation between being introverted and being quiet. I know she tries to bring up that point (and I mention this with the two axes above) but I still think that the analysis is confounded by a subtle confluence between extroversion and expressiveness. I struggle to believe that America or the West is actually necessarily more extroverted than other cultures, but rather that expressiveness and boldness and individualism are elevated in this culture. I don't believe extroversion and expressiveness are the same thing. Anyhoo, maybe I'm misreading this or projecting on it too much.

P.P.P.S. I'd love your comments! Being a grown up means I can "ask for what I want and honor the response" (Richo, How To Be An Adult). Well, this extroverted Enneagram 6 thrives on feedback so I would love to hear from you. :) Thanks, as always, for reading. This is such a good exercise for me, to write and then to be brave by sharing. Thank you so much for being here.

Against the current

Lately I've been feeling fried and scattered and not in my groove.

It helps to be reminded that I have a one- and three-year-old who for some reason just don't get that my goal every day is to feel on top of things. I stay at home so I should be able to get tons of housework and cooking done on the regular, right?

But really, with two rapscallions who love to undo everything I do, sometimes I wonder why I even try.

I am trying to remember to "capture the moments" that make it "all worth it" - the snuggles, the funny things they say, and even the mischievous looks and grins.

However, that can be hard during days (or weeks) when the bright moments seem outweighed by the hard moments - constant crying that cannot be mitigated or reasoned with, broken glass from a frame knocked off the shelf, middle-of-the-night wake ups (from the 3yo and not the baby, mind you), and the pain I feel in my lower back and hips from so much carrying of these thirty-five and twenty-pound lovely lumps.

The weather is still fluctuating here in the Pacific Northwest and spring has not yet decided that it's ready to pull off its winter covers. I wish my mood weren't so determined by the pattern of the sun and the clouds, that I had the strength to push through the grey and get my kids (and myself) out on days that are gloomy and wet.

On those dark days, I feel as though I'm swimming against the current.

I wrote a list of things to make sure I'm staying on top of the bare minimum self-care items, but I feel the need for even more yet, and I'm not sure what I can do. Is it just restlessness from a long winter?

(Practically, I'd love a project, or a class, or someone to do something with. If anyone else is in this same boat of needing to do something with someone, like a book club or other project, please let me know!)

I was telling a friend yesterday how vulnerable it feels to be as extroverted as I am, to feel like my threshold for friendship and social interaction greatly exceeds the reality of my current situation.

Though I'm eager to find a solution to the inquietude and my frequent feelings of loneliness, sometimes I wonder if it's good just to name it, that longing and yearning for something more. Being a very pragmatic person, I have a hard time sitting still in unsettling situations. In my heart I know there can be more (more community, more depth). But perhaps my call right now is to find peace in the midst of circumstances that refuse to change and that are as stubborn as is this Seattle winter.

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On a totally different note, here is a special peak into my W-E-I-R-D brain. We visited a different church last Sunday and when I was headed to the restroom, I passed a door that was labeled "Mop Room." Before I could help myself, my brain went to this random place. I wondered to myself, "What if, instead of being a 'Mop Room' it was actually the MOPS Room, and when you opened it, a bunch of Moms of Preschoolers popped up and yelled, 'Supplies!'"

I hope you're not too embarrassed to still be my friend.

A hard week

This has been a hard week. Hence, why I'm dragging myself here on a Friday, to finally write this week's post.

I've been in a funk, and (because?) my kids are going crazy. It's probably partly due to the weather: the darkness, and the cold keeping us in.

To give you an idea of how bad this week was, let me just say that I spent one whole nap-time Googling therapists and preschools. (The former for me, the latter for a certain almost-three-year-old, if you weren't clear.)

I had one of those days when I dreamed of being older and getting momnesia, being one of Those Moms.

I think it's even harder after a year of growth and realizations. Like, aren't I supposed to be a better person now? I've learned a little about self-compassion! I've been enlightened! I can live in the moment! I can be my own best friend?! Or even my own boss! And, when all else fails, "Plot twist!"

Sigh. The spirals of despair.

Anyway, I'm just going to try to keep showing up. Each and every damn day.

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Kendra Adachi, of The Lazy Genius Collective, my newest blog/podcast love, asks these three questions of her podcast listeners at the end of every interview. I'll answer them for you and ask for you to reply with yours.

Something I love: The Road Back to You podcast. The production has improved significantly since its inception. I particularly enjoyed Reclaiming Hope (Nov 16) and How Do You Manage the Unrest in Your Soul (Nov 10).
Something I hate: Feeling overwhelmed by the aforementioned almost-three-year-old.
Something I need: Besides therapy and/or preschool, a vacation in a warm place or at least a heated swimming pool!

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Other randoms:

• If you have smelly kitchen towels, despite any and all past efforts of washing in borax/vinegar/baking soda/etc. in the laundry machine, try: boiling them in 1/4-1/2 cup baking soda on your stove for 20-30 minutes. In addition to smelling so clean (i.e., not smelling like anything), my flour sacks are more absorbent now, too! You're welcome.
• If you need to watch the stupidest stupid thing ever, check this out. If it's not funny to you, just watch it again.
• My friend Jason said, "for someone who's not on Facebook, you sure like a lot of dumb videos." This is for having also insisted that we watch Christopher Walken's Googly Eyes video before dinner. (Is Walken a 6, needing to know where he stands with something?)
• I've signed up for a sort of continuation of the workshop I took this summer, called The Year of Creativity. If you're interested, I have a referral link that will get you 10% off and then $10 for me. 
• Instead of doing a full elimination diet just yet, I've tried cutting out gluten for Emilyn and me. So far it's making a big difference for Emilyn, and a questionable difference for me. 

Love. Hate. Need. Go!

12. Finding your vacation

My favorite non-conformists.

"It is fun to have fun but you have to know how." --The Cat in the Hat

When I was at Berkeley I took a deCal (extracurricular course) called "Finding Your Vocation," taught by a Dave Evans, whom I now see is at Stanford (almost typed something different but then thought better of it, Alex). We were provided a lot of interesting readings but the thing I have not forgotten is from the first day when everyone went around and shared why they signed up for the class. No joke, after half the group had shared, one girl said, "Oh my gosh. I thought this class was called 'Finding your vacation.'" The collective embarrassment felt in the room for her was visceral.

Today, however, I am starting to see the convergence between vocation/vacation.

Super convoluted but here goes: The process of decluttering our home ala KonMari precipitated a ruthless examination of my life/mind/spirit/psyche. Every segment we did was really dreadful but then at the end we could stand back and feel so happy. Now that we've completed a significant amount, I look at different sections of our house that have been Konmari'd, feel giddy, and think, "This is our vacation home." (David, I was tempted to insert a parenthetical "becoming." Lolz.)

The paradigm shift for me was "Why can't our home be our vacation home?" When I think about vacation, the aspect I love most about it is not sightseeing or going out and doing things, but lounging around with nothing to do and without many of my possessions around me, save for the things needed to cook a yummy meal, and maybe a book or two.

In The Art of Non-Conformity (I'm on the last hour of the audiobook now), Guillebeau also suggests the exercise of writing out what your ideal day would look like. I need to do that soon and figure out how to bring alignment between my current reality and my ideal reality. It is probably going to involve figuring out how I can go swimming more often. (Christine, why aren't we neighbors?)

I think I've been waiting for my vocation to drop in my lap from the sky; now I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I can take the bull by the horns and create/curate my life/home into my vocation/vacation.

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This recent joy of creativity has been a life saver for me. After a long season of feeling socially, mentally, and spiritually dry, I'm tucking "creativity" away as a tool I need to remember when I'm feeling stuck. I love the phrase "your childhood solutions become your adult problems" (HT: Carol Johnston of First Pres Berkeley Stephen Ministry fame). I think what it's saying to me now is that there's a good and valid reason why we may do things for a long spell or season. But when it stops working, you can move on and figure out something else. My old ways of seeing and knowing God and understanding the world, and the church, and so many other things? Just because they aren't working doesn't mean God isn't there. (Ohhhhhhhh I'm getting to that deep stuff. And I'm gonna stop here before I cry. #toolate What a friggin' long grieving process this is.)

If I remove the scaffolding of fears I have set up for myself, will faith be there to catch me?

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So tell me, what is your ideal vocation/vacation?

03. Day three

Today is day three and it feels like what a day three probably feels like for anyone who makes some sort of commitment to a new habit. I imagine this is how people who give up sugar feel on day three.

I am not happy.

I don't know if it's coincidence or not, but today was an unreasonably hard day. I don't want to say anything else and also I just want to go to sleep, but I am here to put in my words.

Peace out.

#ohbrene, or, Day Zero

"There's no such thing as non-creative people. There are just people who use their creativity and people who don't. And unused creativity is not benign." -Brene Brown*

Hi!

It's the first Wednesday of August and I'm forcing myself to show up here again. When I mentioned a hiatus in my previous post, I had in mind that I'd be back in August. I need the discipline - or so I thought** - I need to show up. However the fact that I didn't say that publicly even though I knew the plan just goes to show how much I love to under-promise and over-deliver. I don't want to disappoint anyone, most of all me.

Last month I was part of an online writer's workshop. Intentionally engaging in the (a?) creative process for the first time in a long time was refreshing in the way that white water rafting is: that is to say, both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. During the ride I knew I would want to do it again, but only after a chance to dry off, warm up, and eat a huge meal.

I'm still reeling from everything I learned and everything that surfaced. And the experience of the workshop seemed to coincide with other creative ventures and conversations, so my head is swirling from ideas and inspirations as well as the many things for which I may need to see a therapist.

I feel like I'm on the precipice of something amazing and I don't know yet what that is, but I have a little feeling that it involves showing up here and writing more. I'm scared, though, to take those inspirations to intentions. I really didn't want this space to be about all that vulnerability crap (#brenebrownismyspiritanimal). I also need a space to be irreverent and irrelevant. But maybe it doesn't have to be one or the other. Maybe I can just be authentic. I'm a little freaked out by this idea but I think I need to do it.

This feels like a common thread for me, and those of you who know me well are probably nodding your heads, like "yup, I think we've been here before with you, Lis." "Here" being this: being okay with the process, not merely obsessing over being processed.

Well, that wasn't as word-vomit-y as I thought this was going to be! Still, enough vulnerability hangover that I'm glad Kayla's making me nachos and a margarita tonight.


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* swiped from a podcast episode of Elizabeth Gilbert's, around 3:36
** Elizabeth Gilbert (I want to just call her Liz like she's my friend too) mentioned in the same podcast about how people think the most important thing they need is not discipline, but rather self-forgiveness and empathy. WHA?? (~18:03)