By definition, we put our attention and get our energy from spending time with our inner world of ideas and images. It doesn't automatically mean we're shy, it doesn't automatically mean we're anti-social, and it doesn't automatically mean we are less important and should become extrovert converts. Everybody spends some time extroverting and some time introverting. The Myers-Briggs personality type measures tendencies or preferences, not trait, ability or character. And in the world of discussing personality types, I feel like we introverts end up defending ourselves and our behaviors.
It does not, however, give us the excuse to prevent us from being vulnerable with others.
In fact, because we spend so much time in our heads, I believe it is necessary to share our honest thoughts and feelings with others.
Now, I'm not saying we introverts should conform to be more like extroverts. I'm not suggesting we should change our restorative process or spend less time thinking or should try externally processing instead of internally processing. I'm suggesting that we may be tempted more often than not to use our introverted personality type to keep our burdens to ourselves, stunt the growth of certain relationships in our lives and therefore isolate ourselves. We may be tempted to exclude ourselves from experiencing true love and community.
Most of the time I think it stems from insecurities and fears. The world of our own mind is closely connected to our hearts and therefore our thoughts and feelings are extremely precious to us. We're scared that people will not handle our thoughts and feelings as sacredly as we do. We're anxious that people will judge us. So we find that in order to share those thoughts and feelings openly with someone, it needs to be someone we can trust, takes us seriously, and listens carefully.
Sometimes we're just afraid to share our thoughts or feelings out loud because saying them out loud - especially for anyone else's ears to hear - will make the thought or feeling real. Almost tangible, even. They're not just words because they carry something precious to us, and when we share them they're out in the world and we can't take it back.
I actually think sometimes we believe that sharing our thoughts and feelings (depending on what they are) will be a lose-lose situation for us: we're afraid we'll be wrong and we're afraid we'll be right. For example, in high school I had a hard time admitting to anyone that I was stressed out, didn't have everything together and often messed up because if I did, I was afraid I would be right; that I was stressed out, I didn't have everything together and often messed up. And therefore, I was afraid I would be wrong; wrong to believe that I could live up to being the little ray of sunshine that everyone could rely on and that I could be this diligent, responsible, righteous superwoman all the time, everyday. It would lead to an experience of humility and shame.
However, my dear introverted friends, there is freedom and hope we also miss out on if we keep these things to ourselves. Sometimes the things that whirl around in our heads aren't based on God's biblical truths and cannot be dismantled by our own doing. And sometimes we won't even know that we're perpetuating a false belief unless we share it with others. Unfortunately, reading minds was not one of the ways God created us to communicate with one another.
Take a chance on our dear extroverted friends. We spend a lot of time defending ourselves as introverts and not appreciating or celebrating our differences. Being extroverted doesn't automatically mean they enjoy hearing themselves talk, or aren't good listeners. In fact, I think they're sometimes the best ones to share your thoughts and feelings with even if they're not fully baked because they're very understanding of not needing every word to come out of your mouth to be exactly what you're trying to say or what you really think. Sharing those half-baked thoughts and feelings can be stepping stones to getting to where you're really trying to go.
So what I'm saying is, I understand the need for space and time to think and process (oh believe me, I know). But what I'm suggesting is that we need to try sharing during and after that process with those we share life with about what we've been mulling over so that others may receive the opportunity to serve you well and you can have the opportunity to experience a connection with others and God that we all need.
It may not always happen, and sometimes we may get hurt, but if you close the door to that risk of pain you also close the door to that chance of the freedom and joy you can gain with love.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Conflict and confrontation connections.
I used to despise conflict and dread confrontation. I'd avoid them like the plague. I'd do what it takes to keep the peace, even if it means unhealthily sweeping things under the rug and just absorbing my own disagreement. If denying my own feelings or opinions would prevent conflicts from arising, I'll keep them to myself to keep the other person(s) happy.
Now, this is something I've known about myself for a while. It goes along with the idea that I used to be a lot more fearless when I was younger and how I grew to become more cautious over the years. When I was younger I'd push my boundaries a bit and take a few more risks. But I'd oftentimes learn that the consequences of doing that frequently led to some form of pain or punishment: emotional, mental, social, or physical.
So in my relationships with authorities, families, and especially friends, I wasn't a big fan of the consequences of conflicts because it often led to hurt feelings, yelling/arguments, misunderstanding, unhappiness. I dealt with it by learning that if I did what people told me to do, if I denied vocalizing things that would push back against another person or authority, I wouldn't put myself in a conflict situation where I could ultimately face the wrath of emotional pain or punishment.
You could also throw in the facets of my personality that like things black and white, distaste of the "grey" areas, my perfectionism disposition, and my Asian-American tendencies of passive-aggressiveness, respecting elders/authorities, and avoiding shame, and you've got a whole slew of other factors of why I tend to avoid conflicts.
But to sum it up - I tend avoid any kind of conflict to ultimately protect myself.
Yes, avoiding conflict can be a very selfish thing. You ignore or put yourself above the other person's needs or the relationship's needs, and serve yourself instead. And friends, that is definitely not how we love one another.
Thankfully, during my many moments of introspection, along with good friends and family in my life who love me, I've become aware of this pattern of mine. And becoming aware of it also helps me do two things: 1) get to the root of why I respond the way I do, and 2) see the flaws or destructiveness to myself and to others I have relationships with. And after becoming aware of myself, I can focus on ways I can change or be aware and prepare others for future situations.
One thing I've had to learn (often the hard way) is that conflict is not a bad thing. In fact, it can be a very healthy part of life and any relationship you have with anyone.
I once heard an analogy of how having conflict is like putting a couple of rocks into a rock tumbler. You throw them in and as the canister spins, the rocks collide and rub against each other so that after some time, when you take them out, they're shiny and smooth and really pretty.
Conflicts will shape us by how we choose to handle them when they inevitably arise. We can choose to engage or we can choose to hop out of the rock tumbler. Yeah, you'd be the same rock you've always been, strong and safe from harm's way, but do you really want to bury what God has given you? With God's love for us we have a chance to dig under our tough skin and let others see the real us. As messy as the real us may be, there's something beautiful about smoothing off those edges.
So if there's one reason why I'm thankful I've been learning this already is that it has indeed been preparing me for marriage. Ladies and gents, I am fully convinced (even as I am not married yet) that if I had not been learning how to deal with conflicts in my relationships with others (friends, family, random people, etc.), I would not be ready to get married...to anyone! Think about it - I'm pretty much guaranteed to have conflicts with Nathan for the rest of my life. We're going to be each other's faces all the time because we're melding together our lives. So if I can't learn to handle conflicts well with my friends and family, what makes me think I can handle conflicts well with my husband?
Learning to face conflicts and undergo confrontation is an ongoing process. It's so easy for me to dance around than confront what could be the cold, hard truth with myself or with others. Sometimes I fall back into the habit of avoiding it. But I definitely see the importance of both and see the dangers of what could/would happen if they don't happen. And because of that, I am more inclined and willing to go through the tension and uncomfortable feelings for the sake of the relationship and the other person than I would have been in the past.
By this all men will know that you are my disciples - if you love one another. --John 13:35
Now, this is something I've known about myself for a while. It goes along with the idea that I used to be a lot more fearless when I was younger and how I grew to become more cautious over the years. When I was younger I'd push my boundaries a bit and take a few more risks. But I'd oftentimes learn that the consequences of doing that frequently led to some form of pain or punishment: emotional, mental, social, or physical.
So in my relationships with authorities, families, and especially friends, I wasn't a big fan of the consequences of conflicts because it often led to hurt feelings, yelling/arguments, misunderstanding, unhappiness. I dealt with it by learning that if I did what people told me to do, if I denied vocalizing things that would push back against another person or authority, I wouldn't put myself in a conflict situation where I could ultimately face the wrath of emotional pain or punishment.
You could also throw in the facets of my personality that like things black and white, distaste of the "grey" areas, my perfectionism disposition, and my Asian-American tendencies of passive-aggressiveness, respecting elders/authorities, and avoiding shame, and you've got a whole slew of other factors of why I tend to avoid conflicts.
But to sum it up - I tend avoid any kind of conflict to ultimately protect myself.
Yes, avoiding conflict can be a very selfish thing. You ignore or put yourself above the other person's needs or the relationship's needs, and serve yourself instead. And friends, that is definitely not how we love one another.
Thankfully, during my many moments of introspection, along with good friends and family in my life who love me, I've become aware of this pattern of mine. And becoming aware of it also helps me do two things: 1) get to the root of why I respond the way I do, and 2) see the flaws or destructiveness to myself and to others I have relationships with. And after becoming aware of myself, I can focus on ways I can change or be aware and prepare others for future situations.
One thing I've had to learn (often the hard way) is that conflict is not a bad thing. In fact, it can be a very healthy part of life and any relationship you have with anyone.
Conflicts will shape us by how we choose to handle them when they inevitably arise. We can choose to engage or we can choose to hop out of the rock tumbler. Yeah, you'd be the same rock you've always been, strong and safe from harm's way, but do you really want to bury what God has given you? With God's love for us we have a chance to dig under our tough skin and let others see the real us. As messy as the real us may be, there's something beautiful about smoothing off those edges.
So if there's one reason why I'm thankful I've been learning this already is that it has indeed been preparing me for marriage. Ladies and gents, I am fully convinced (even as I am not married yet) that if I had not been learning how to deal with conflicts in my relationships with others (friends, family, random people, etc.), I would not be ready to get married...to anyone! Think about it - I'm pretty much guaranteed to have conflicts with Nathan for the rest of my life. We're going to be each other's faces all the time because we're melding together our lives. So if I can't learn to handle conflicts well with my friends and family, what makes me think I can handle conflicts well with my husband?
Learning to face conflicts and undergo confrontation is an ongoing process. It's so easy for me to dance around than confront what could be the cold, hard truth with myself or with others. Sometimes I fall back into the habit of avoiding it. But I definitely see the importance of both and see the dangers of what could/would happen if they don't happen. And because of that, I am more inclined and willing to go through the tension and uncomfortable feelings for the sake of the relationship and the other person than I would have been in the past.
By this all men will know that you are my disciples - if you love one another. --John 13:35
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Theme song of this semester.
There's distance in the air and I cannot make it leave
I wave my arms 'round about me and blow with all my might
I cannot sense you close, though I know you're always here
But the comfort of you near is what I long for
When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear you, I know you still hear everyword I pray
And I want you more than I want to live another day
And as I wait for you maybe I'm made more faithful
All the folly of the past, though I know it is undone
All the folly of the past, though I know it is undone
I still feel the guilty one, still trying to make it right
So I whisper soft your name, let it roll around my tongue,
Knowing you're the only one who knows me
You know me
Show me how I should live this
Show me how I should live this
Show me where I should walk
I count this world as loss to me
You are all I want
You are all I want
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Mild melancholy.
On Sunday evening I came home to an extremely messy apartment that would normally stress me out, but instead I rolled up my sleeves and was excited to get started. There were a number of reasons for this: one being that it was a project I could start, work hard on, see to completion and delight in the fruits of my labor; while the other being that I was in a funky state of mind since the weekend and didn't know why or what had caused it. I was ready to clean up whatever mess my brain and heart had accumulated from the external stimuli of the weekend.
Something on Saturday night acted like a straw that broke this camel's back. I realized it wasn't really the content or events of the end of the year banquet itself that I attended that spurred this on, but rather a question that Pam Lee had posed to me in a conversation we were having. She explained some of her plans for the future and asked me how I've been dealing with moving away from family and friends and the realities of them moving on with their lives without me (sort of). In the moment she asked, it didn't really bring anything new to light - I had been mentally aware that leaving community behind was going to be my reality and is simply a part of life. But it wasn't until later on that night as I was recalling that moment when I realized how much I needed to look in the mirror and face the reality of what I really felt. In what seemed like a flash of a moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness but didn't really understand where this was all coming from.
So strangely enough, my attempt to internally process during my cleaning endeavors was not very helpful. I focused, I cleaned, I reviewed, but couldn't really figure out anything significant. But then again, now that I think about it, I don't think I was actually looking very hard.
My internal diagnoses weren't really getting me anywhere beyond mixed feelings of sadness and I was still in this sad daze on Monday, so it was good to just talk to someone...which ended up being Nathan. Talking about it helped me not just identify a little bit of what I've been feeling, but helped tie those feelings in with the patterns I've been experiencing all year, particularly with my overall temptation to feel like a failure and be full of regret.
It wasn't just that I was going to miss some key people in my life - it was this sense of not having closure and not having time to make it happen. It's as if I was reading a sentence at the bottom of the page of a book, turning the page expecting to finish the sentence, only to find that the page is blank. That's how I feel about these last few weeks in Binghamton. There are still tasks to complete, and it didn't seem to be prime time for creating closure.
I've been feeling helpless, useless, sometimes frustrated with myself and sometimes frustrated with others. I'm stuck in limbo, floating around until something hits me.
But I started this post a few days ago and things seemed to be turning around a little bit. Now that I've identified this feeling of lack of closure, I can focus on trying to come up with ways I need to create that closure for myself. As I share my thoughts and feelings with others they've helped remind me that it's okay to make mistakes, it's not my job to "fix" everybody and everything, and that the weight of that responsibility falls on the shoulders of our Lord Jesus Christ. I am reminded of that freedom I have in Christ and how I can trust the One who loves the people in my community more than I do.
Something on Saturday night acted like a straw that broke this camel's back. I realized it wasn't really the content or events of the end of the year banquet itself that I attended that spurred this on, but rather a question that Pam Lee had posed to me in a conversation we were having. She explained some of her plans for the future and asked me how I've been dealing with moving away from family and friends and the realities of them moving on with their lives without me (sort of). In the moment she asked, it didn't really bring anything new to light - I had been mentally aware that leaving community behind was going to be my reality and is simply a part of life. But it wasn't until later on that night as I was recalling that moment when I realized how much I needed to look in the mirror and face the reality of what I really felt. In what seemed like a flash of a moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness but didn't really understand where this was all coming from.
So strangely enough, my attempt to internally process during my cleaning endeavors was not very helpful. I focused, I cleaned, I reviewed, but couldn't really figure out anything significant. But then again, now that I think about it, I don't think I was actually looking very hard.
My internal diagnoses weren't really getting me anywhere beyond mixed feelings of sadness and I was still in this sad daze on Monday, so it was good to just talk to someone...which ended up being Nathan. Talking about it helped me not just identify a little bit of what I've been feeling, but helped tie those feelings in with the patterns I've been experiencing all year, particularly with my overall temptation to feel like a failure and be full of regret.
It wasn't just that I was going to miss some key people in my life - it was this sense of not having closure and not having time to make it happen. It's as if I was reading a sentence at the bottom of the page of a book, turning the page expecting to finish the sentence, only to find that the page is blank. That's how I feel about these last few weeks in Binghamton. There are still tasks to complete, and it didn't seem to be prime time for creating closure.
I've been feeling helpless, useless, sometimes frustrated with myself and sometimes frustrated with others. I'm stuck in limbo, floating around until something hits me.
But I started this post a few days ago and things seemed to be turning around a little bit. Now that I've identified this feeling of lack of closure, I can focus on trying to come up with ways I need to create that closure for myself. As I share my thoughts and feelings with others they've helped remind me that it's okay to make mistakes, it's not my job to "fix" everybody and everything, and that the weight of that responsibility falls on the shoulders of our Lord Jesus Christ. I am reminded of that freedom I have in Christ and how I can trust the One who loves the people in my community more than I do.
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