Silence to an introvert is what oxygen is to mammals. — Marsha Raasch
I recently discovered a term that pretty much describes my true nature. It ends in the letters v - e - r - t, vert.
No, I’m not talking pervert here, although I do confess to a certain tilted view of the world at times, along with a tendency to frolic in ways that some — but not all — might find peculiar.
To wit: just last week at Sunset Manor, as I danced through the big circle of residents at the Friday morning sing-a-long, longtime family friend Mary Ann Brunetti commented with a wry smile, “That J.T. is sure silly … but it’s a good silly.”
Turns out, in addition to being good silly, I’m an ambivert. Which — I discovered in reading the book “Quiet,” by Susan Cain — is a person whose personality contains the qualities of two different verts – extrovert (gregarious, social and unreserved) and introvert (quiet, solitary and contemplative).
The subtitle of the book is “The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.” In it, Cain says that most Americans, introverts included, view solitary activity, quiet reflection and reserve as “a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology.”
Cain says at least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They’re the ones who prefer listening to speaking, reading to partying; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over brainstorming in teams.
Although they are often labeled “quiet,” it is to introverts that we owe many of the great contributions to society — from Einstein’s relativity theory to van Gogh’s sunflowers to the invention of the personal computer.
According to Cain, America embraces the “Extrovert Ideal — the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha and comfortable in the spotlight.”
Upon reading this I couldn’t help but think of my dad, who struggled for years to figure out what was the matter with uncle T.M., a man who was quite comfortable sitting and listening to the conversation of others or allowing periods of silence to go uninterrupted. “I timed him,” my dad once told me after a holiday gathering on our patio, “and he went 45 minutes without saying a damn thing!”
According to Cain, introverts in America are many times overwhelmed by the social demands thrust upon them. So much so that they tend to hide their true nature as not to be ostracized as they come to view their tendency toward solitary activity as a negative trait.
Silence to an introvert is what oxygen is to mammals. — Marsha Raasch
I recently discovered a term that pretty much describes my true nature. It ends in the letters v - e - r - t, vert.
No, I’m not talking pervert here, although I do confess to a certain tilted view of the world at times, along with a tendency to frolic in ways that some — but not all — might find peculiar.
To wit: just last week at Sunset Manor, as I danced through the big circle of residents at the Friday morning sing-a-long, longtime family friend Mary Ann Brunetti commented with a wry smile, “That J.T. is sure silly … but it’s a good silly.”
Turns out, in addition to being good silly, I’m an ambivert. Which — I discovered in reading the book “Quiet,” by Susan Cain — is a person whose personality contains the qualities of two different verts – extrovert (gregarious, social and unreserved) and introvert (quiet, solitary and contemplative).
The subtitle of the book is “The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.” In it, Cain says that most Americans, introverts included, view solitary activity, quiet reflection and reserve as “a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology.”
Cain says at least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They’re the ones who prefer listening to speaking, reading to partying; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over brainstorming in teams.
Although they are often labeled “quiet,” it is to introverts that we owe many of the great contributions to society — from Einstein’s relativity theory to van Gogh’s sunflowers to the invention of the personal computer.
According to Cain, America embraces the “Extrovert Ideal — the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha and comfortable in the spotlight.”
Upon reading this I couldn’t help but think of my dad, who struggled for years to figure out what was the matter with uncle T.M., a man who was quite comfortable sitting and listening to the conversation of others or allowing periods of silence to go uninterrupted. “I timed him,” my dad once told me after a holiday gathering on our patio, “and he went 45 minutes without saying a damn thing!”
According to Cain, introverts in America are many times overwhelmed by the social demands thrust upon them. So much so that they tend to hide their true nature as not to be ostracized as they come to view their tendency toward solitary activity as a negative trait.
Cain also devotes a chapter to the inevitable communication gap between introverts and extroverts, whether it be work, friendship, romance, or marriage. The answer, in word, is acceptance. When people learn to accept and respect one another’s personality types and problem solve based on their strengths, the whole is many times greater than the sum of the parts.
The book also contains a sort of blueprint for dealing with those who approach life from the quiet side. Here’s a sampling:
• If you’re a teacher, enjoy your gregarious and participatory students. but don’t forget to cultivate the shy, the gentle, the autonomous.
• If you’re a manager, remember that one third to one half of your workforce is probably introverted, whether they appear that way or not.
• We know from myths and fairy tales that there are many different kinds of powers. The trick is not to amass all the different kinds of available power, but to use well the kind you’ve been granted.
• The secret to life is to put yourself in the right lighting. For some is a Broadway spotlight: for others a lamplit desk.
• Respect your loved ones needs for socializing and your own for solitude (or vice versa).
• Spend your free time the way you like, not the way you think you’re supposed to.
• If your children are quiet, help them make peace with new situations and new people, but otherwise let them be themselves.
• Love is essential, gregariousness is optional.
Fortunately, I’ve grown increasingly comfortable over the years with my introverted side — thanks to positive reinforcement I’ve gotten from solitary activities like writing, prayer and contemplation.
Still, it was good to read that I’m not the only one who sometimes crosses to other side of the street to avoid aimless chit chat, wants to leave the party after half an hour, dislikes working on group projects, refuses to ‘Like’ people on Facebook, doesn’t ‘tweet,’ avoids multitasking, and would rather stay home and read a good book than meet friends at the local sports bar.
No doubt there’s lots of you reading this who feel the same way. So here’s to all of us — ambiverts and introverts alike — content to live on the quiet side of life.
J.T. Knoll is a writer, speaker and prevention and wellness coordinator at Pittsburg State University. He also operates Knoll Training & Consulting in Pittsburg. He can be reached at 231-0499 or jtknoll@swbell.net