Verts…

Before I write anything, I have a disclaimer for this blog. Do not be offended by anything I write. I am going to be as honest as I can, and I don’t want it to be misunderstood by family or friends. So, with that as a warning, let me tell you why I’ve put aside three other blog topics that are all partially written, to share this topic today.

Last week I attended three days of in-person meetings. Not a big deal, right? Well, it was a huge deal. By the end of 8.5 hours on day one, I was worried about driving home. I couldn’t remember ever being so tired. When I mentioned it to someone, it was pointed out that it’s been two years since we’ve participated in anything like that. Of course! My whole system was overwhelmed. Day two was slightly better because I missed the first three hours as I was in a private office, attending online meetings during that time. Originally I wasn’t going to attend day three in person, but the afternoon of day two was so interesting that I thought virtual attendance wasn’t the right choice. [By the way, day three was the worst – not in terms of the meeting but my mind and body’s reaction to it. It was definitely too much.] Near the end of day three I was told the plan is to go back to the office at least three days a week and all I felt was panic.

So, that’s what happened to me last week. Why the panic? I’ve spent my whole career “going to work” and I haven’t said much about it. Again, why the panic? The result of the panic was that I spent Friday night looking at myself. What was going on? Is it because my commute is longer from the “new” house? Not really, because the commute is almost the same if I go to two of the three locations we have in the city. What was really going on in my body? And I say body because it was my whole body that reacted. I was angry and upset and verging on depressed and, yes, panicked.

When I was a kid, I was pretty awkward – at least that’s how I see myself when I look back. I was afraid of everything. I liked rules (still do 😊). I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I was smart and not always sure how to show it. I was like a mouse. [There was one place where I was outgoing – putting on a show or performing! As a kid; in our house. It was a safe place. I never even considered going out for drama club when I was in high school. Maybe I should have and then I could have become a famous actor 😉!] Early on I realized the only way to get anywhere was to become someone different and I went about trying to change. In high school I went out for student government, participated in sports, team and individual, I joined clubs (like the math club!!), volunteered, and built up a solid resumé to get into university. I had friends from all sorts of groups. I knew the jocks, the geniuses, the cool kids, while never feeling like I was one of them. I got to university, had friends, worked, and partied, like most students. I survived.

This world is built for extroverts. People are expected to perform all day long. We judge people based on how they present their message and how they “show up”. I knew that all those years ago when I set out “becoming” the person on my resumé.  

I don’t like labels. I think they narrow people – both the people sporting them and the people viewing them. I’m very vocal on the subject as I believe, far too often, labels give people an excuse to not achieve. Because I did my best to adapt to the world, I think I dismissed the idea that the world should do some adapting, too.

And yet, think about it. The world has adapted. We have accessible buildings, washrooms, seats in the movie theatre and concert hall. We have closed captioning on movies and tv shows for those who are hard of hearing. We have descriptive video service for the blind. Our world has adapted to be more inclusive. I’m sure some of that adapting came from hard fought battles and wasn’t a smooth or easy transition. Should we be adapting to our new reality as well? I would argue, yes.

Here we are, two years after the start of a pandemic that sent people home from the office. (I recognize that not everyone is in a job that can be done remotely. I am specifically speaking about those jobs that can and have been done well from remote locations.) I didn’t realize until I was told “at least three days a week” for my return to the office, just how comfortable I’ve been. How this has allowed me to be me. Yes, I’ve struggled. Absolutely. I’ll be honest, though, I think those struggles might be less related to the isolation and more related to the pandemic itself. My mom is older and the thought of losing her to this horrible disease has been terrifying. Not seeing my son for over two years. Not traveling, not taking a break, all of those things have made it difficult. Working from home? Not so tough.

At this point, some of my family and friends may be shaking their heads in a little disbelief. I’m going to try to share “me” right now. I’m the one who talks too much, who seems to love planning a party and having people over to my house. I’m the one who plans lunches out and can’t wait to get on the golf course or in a tournament with a friend or friends. I’m the one who wouldn’t hate meeting someone and having someone special in my life. How is it possible, that I’m an introvert? Remember my disclaimer? This is where it comes in.

Yes, I love to talk. I prefer talking to texting, to be honest. Why? A little bit because I type a lot during the day and get tired of it. A little bit because I have to keep paying attention to my phone and keep answering when the conversation is by text. I have a friend who says I’m so fast answering – it’s because I keep it beside me so I can get it done. I would much rather talk to a person. I find texting tiring and disjointed.

Yes, I love to invite people over for get-togethers. I’m good at planning and hosting. What my family and friends don’t know is that usually the night before, I begin to dread the event. I wish I hadn’t suggested it, planned it, etc. At some point, usually within a few hours of their arrival, I’m in a panic. I’m running around trying to make everything perfect. When they first arrive, I tend to talk too much – that’s the nervous energy rearing it’s ugly head. It’s not that I don’t want to see my guests. It’s not that I don’t want guests. It’s that I have to really put myself out. Afterward, I am always happy I did. It’s just very wearing on me. In the last two years, I’ve noticed it is harder and harder for me. I find my house is very quiet and when people arrive it becomes loud and “messy”. I don’t mean that my guests dirty up my house. I mean that it’s a small house and people in it disrupt it, for want of a better word. Again, let me make it clear for anyone reading this. I am okay with this. I love seeing family and friends. I love when my mom comes to visit, and I miss her dreadfully when she leaves. But it takes extra energy from me and sometimes I find it hard to maintain.

I have always loved going to concerts and the symphony. I love music and live music is the best. But all those people, you may ask? I don’t notice them once the music starts. I am engulfed by the sound and am taken away. Even if it’s a night out dancing? Yes, the dance floors (at least, pre-pandemic) were crowded and intrusive, but it was great fun. At the end of the night, I would be exhausted and happy to crawl into my own bed.

I guess what I’m saying is, that I think the verts, intro and extro, cannot be defined in black and white. Again, for me it comes back to labels. No one is one-dimensional. We all have complexities and cross over the lines between those categories. I cannot be defined as only an introvert. I am me. And me comes with lots of complications. I don’t want to be a hermit – I’d go crazy without connections to other people. However, one of my dream vacations is renting a cottage on one of the Aran Islands for two weeks. No connections to the outside world for two whole weeks! Would I do it? Probably not. I have people that I love and would not want to be unavailable to them. I would do it with limited connections, though. In a heartbeat. I love spending one week at an all-inclusive in the Caribbean. Lying on the beach with good books, is heaven to me. I can’t do more than that one week, though. I like to travel and learn and experience. It’s just that, at the end of each day I need to be able to be by myself and recharge. I’ve never been intrigued by group travel. I’d rather go out and find my way on my own or with a friend. I love hop-on and hop-off tours of cities because you get the travel guide, and you can choose your own path. You aren’t committed to be with all those people for days at a time!

My son said to me I’m not an introvert because I make myself do things on my own, such as going out for dinner or attending community events. That does not make me extroverted. I enjoy having someone else cooking for me and the village events are great – I force myself to attend on my own because I think it’s essential to get out in the world. Having said that, there are methods I use to cope. For the outside village events, it’s easy. I can stand and be by myself and not feel too awkward. When I treat myself to dinner out, I take a book. I love reading so it’s not that hard to have a book with me. One thing I’ve done a lot, and always wish I didn’t, is stick by someone I know at an event. What do I mean by that? Well, if I’m somewhere with a ton of people I don’t know or don’t know well, or am not comfortable with, I have a habit of finding someone to be my anchor. That’s definitely not fair to that person but it’s one of the ways that I can make myself stay in the room.

So, there you have it. An introvert in a world made for extroverts. The older I get, the less comfortable I am wearing the “mantle of extrovertism” that I put on all those years ago. I think it’s going to be a foundational piece of my second half of life. I feel like it will be one of those defining elements as I determine the path to follow into retirement.

[One of the blog topics I put aside this week, and don’t want to completely delete is in reference to last’s week blog, War. The opposite of war is considered peace. I’m not sure, as I’ve said, that peace is something we’ll ever truly achieve. And so, as I was writing my planned blog, I was going to call it Grace. In this last week, I’ve seen an incredible number of instances of true grace. My yoga instructor is collecting donations towards humanitarian aid for the people of Ukraine. In return she is offering a free session. I know that her students would donate even without that freebie. The Winnipeg Jets not only had the Ukrainian national anthem sung at their game, they also had the Ukrainian Choir perform it. Our organization, severely impacted financially by the pandemic, has opened up an emergency fund to match our individual donations to the Red Cross in support of aid to Ukraine. I read of a woman on a subway in Russia wearing a blue scarf and a yellow jacket – quiet opposition to the war that stands out brightly in a country where she could be at risk by showing any opposition. And there were the Russian soldiers captured in Ukraine who were given tea and phones to call their mothers to come get them. To me, these seemingly small efforts are how we combat the terror in the world. The negatives I wrote about last week are not all that we have in our world. We have so many people with goodness in their hearts who are doing their part to make it better and I want to make sure their efforts shine through.]

I’m in the middle of some craft projects! I buy the sample paint jars to try out the colours on my walls. Those paint jars are great for projects, as well. This is a shelf that I’m working on for my office space.

I’m using leftover wallpaper from my bedroom on an antique chest that I was gifted. This is the interior tray. Can’t wait for the whole chest to be complete!

This post is from the Instagram page of my yoga instructor, Anandagloyoga. I’m sharing it with her permission so you can see an example of the grace in our world.