extrovert

“Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.”
~ Mick Jagger

Okay. So, you HAVE to watch the video to the end first before you continue reading. Go ahead, I’ll wait…

So…a darling friend of mine showed a group of us this video to help explain being an introvert. We were on our way to a Bacchanalian weekend of music, food and anything else you can think of that is worth overdoing.

As I watched the two birds listen to the guitar music I was struck by how clearly the one bird represented me (the puffed up guy with the big hair and his arms in the air—duh), and how much the other, more demure bird was a dead ringer for my friend.

“Look at how the shy bird puts up its foot like, stay away from me”, she said laughing hysterically.
It really was funny. But I heard the message behind the video loud and clear, “When things get rockin’ later—go and get big somewhere as far away from me as possible.”

There are a lot of introverts in this tribe so I had to show this to you. I knew you could relate to this shy bird’s obvious anxiety.

Not everyone likes to get big. Most people don’t like to draw attention to themselves.

While watching the video of the two birds, I caught my other friend M’s eye and we made a silent pact right then and there.

She gets me. We are fellow extroverts and although we would do our damnedest NOT to embarrass our friend over the course of the weekend, I knew I had a partner in crime, someone who could out-overdo me in every way possible. Our glee would be as uncontainable as that birds and we might even wear big hats and that realization alone caused a huge smile to cross my lips. I’m pretty sure a diabolical laugh leaked out.

We were gonna dance like that freak-flag flying bird—right up next to the stage—somewhere our friend would NEVER go.
And we did.

As the weekend progressed I kept my promise to my introverted friend. She only had to push me away once when I started bear-hugging her for no good reason during a particularly rowdy song. Other than that she danced in and out of our orbit on her own terms, at moments of her own choosing.

I have a new philosophy: It looks to me be so much easier to be an introverted human than a bird. You can show a video that explains your anxiety. You can go stand in a dark corner. And you can request something other than Elvis on the guitar.

Just sayin’.

Carry on,
xox

As a child I was cautioned by my mom and the teachers at school: Don’t talk to strangers.
But my innate curiosity over ruled that dictum on a regular basis. I was an extroverted, chatty kid who liked people and asked a lot of questions.

And of course, just to confuse me, there were exceptions to the rule.

“When the nice lady compliments your dress, what do you say?”

Wait. Really? Okaaaay, Thank you strange lady whom I’ve never seen before and will most likely never meet again. *BIG SMILE

“Tell the nice man how many apples we want,” my mom would encourage, giving me the green light to start a conversation with the man in the produce department, who by the time we left the market was my new best friend. “See you later alligator!” was something someone had taught me and I LOVED it—and people LOVED it—so of course I used it as often as I could.
It became a hello and a goodbye, kinda like my own personal Ciao or Aloha.

All this to say: I detest that stranger=danger rule.
I know, I know! I don’t have kids, and it’s a different time, but…

When I look over my life, I have had some of the deepest, most interesting conversations with absolute strangers.

Traveling is well, an impossibly dry and hopeless mess if you don’t ask people—complete strangers who often speak a different language—directions, or food recommendations, or where they got that incredible hat!
I can’t even imagine it! Mute adventures? Why bother?

I’ve ended up hugging complete strangers after we’ve bonded over a “conversation” made up almost entirely of charades due to a language barrier. Italians have mastered this skill and have forced me on occasion to up my game.

What I’ve learned is that humanity is mostly good, kind-hearted and eager—almost to a fault—to help out a stranger in any way they possibly can. Truly. I see you shaking your head, but I kid you not.

On one trip to Salzburg I bought TWO enormous, extremely overstuffed down pillows, you know, like you do—and instead of having the good sense to ship them home, I carted them all over Europe for the next two weeks.

One day as I was struggling to catch a train out of Italy with my luggage, assorted bags—and my pillows, I spotted the face of a gentleman I had struck up a conversation with at an espresso bar an hour earlier. He was dressed as dapper as I’ve seen anybody dress in. my. life. —And I had commented on his bespoke suit as we both shared a laugh about all my bags and the jackassery of my enormous pillows.

Later when we locked eyes across the train platform, he saw the look of sheer…exasperation on my face, got up out of his first class seat in the train across the tracks, and helped me get settled on my train back to Austria. As he lifted my three ton suitcase and stowed my fucking pillows in the metal racks overhead— I watched HIS train pull away.

I had talked to a stranger and he had gone out of his way and missed his train to become my train station savior. (Thinking back, he wasn’t from this timeline of that I’m sure. He was a chivalrous gentleman from a different era.)

Some strangers have even made it into the inner sanctum =friendship status. Wherever I go I talk to the people around me–and we become friends.

Most of my dearest friends started off as strangers—as did my husband—it doesn’t get any stranger than a blind date!

If you never talk to strangers—how do you meet people?

Think about that, and don’t email me about all the serial killers and bad guys out there looking to do me harm—it won’t change my mind.

Carry on,
xox

I don’t appreciate being pigeonholed, and I try not to do it to others, but honestly, as we all live and breathe, and the sun sets in the west, I’m an extrovert – right?

Ha! Not so fast.

I took a test back at one of those kookie workshops in the eighties, where the air was scented with sandalwood and body odor, and the leader was a fellow with grey dreadlocks and colored striped gaucho pants. Short Circus pants, really.

Since said test was administered toward the end of a loooooong day of chanting, drinking only carrot juice and nibbling on cacao covered coffee beans ( you can’t make this shit up, it was said to improve our “stamina”).
We were on a twenty-four hour, soul-searching quest to discover our true selves, using each other as mirrors, so I’m pretty sure all twenty people would have pegged me as an extrovert.

I can be a bossy pants, especially back then, when I was living my life as the Divine Masculine.

But the results of the test proved what I kinda suspected.

I’m a chatty, sensitive, loner, spotlight stealing, amalgamation of the two.

An Ambivert (which I thought he was making up, just like the validity of the cuisine he served; but it’s a real term).

Here are a few questions that can help you determine if you’re and introvert or extrovert:

Where do you gain or lose energy? (Crowds suck the life force right out of my husband. Me? Not so much.)

Introverts are drained by people and need alone time to recharge. (Only if I’m around the energy vampires)

Extroverts are drained by too much time alone. They need human interaction to recharge. (Ding, ding, ding, BINGO)

A smidgen of both? Welcome to the club.

See that beautifully enlightening graphic above?

It’s another one of those things that should be hanging in every schoolroom, outside every therapist’s office, in the bathrooms at Starbucks and taped to the front door of every party we attend.

Don’t you agree?

That’s just some common sense, good thinking…but I hadn’t thought of few of them.

Here are a couple corrected misconceptions:

Introverts aren’t just shy. They’re introverts. It’s about energy.

Extroverts aren’t necessarily the best sales people, as is often thought, they can be terrible listeners.

Give this some careful consideration. Maybe, in your haste to judgement, you mis categorized those close to you, and maybe even yourself. I know I did.

Let’s all take a moment of silence, and send some juicy gratitude to Gaucho Clown Pants Guy.

OMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I love when you comment! Let me know. Are you an introvert, extrovert or Ambivert? Did you learn something from that graphic? I did!

With love, whispered from the rooftops,

Xox

*Another unsuspecting victim. Sorry Hillary. Happy Sunday!