While at a party last night, I was having a fun conversation with a woman when I casually mentioned that I'm an introvert. She looked perplexed at first but then responded with full confidence, "You're not an introvert." It was not the time or place for me to dispel popular misconceptions over what being an introvert means, particularly the myth that introverts are shy. But now is a good time because I am in my "introvert space" and re-charging my batteries before venturing out again this evening.
Introverts often do appear quiet, but this is because there is a symphony playing in our heads -- we do not yearn for stimulation from without because we already have an abundance of it within. Any interaction with the outside world means multitasking, whether it's conversing with other people or even pausing to notice our surroundings. I am not "plugged into" my environment and, in fact, am usually oblivious to it unless safety or social convention demands my extra energy. I do not feel an urge to decorate my office or my home much because I do not pay attention to these trifles. And it's true, I rarely feel a need to engage other people unless there is some tangible goal to be achieved by doing so. In a strange way, this makes me feel an intimate understanding of my Protestant ancestors, who razed pompous religious iconography and architecture because it focused man's attention on the material, external world rather than the ideal, internal world (where God resides). I can't speak for other introverts, but in my case the sounds, images, and ideas ricocheting in my head are so intense and real that I begin dreaming almost immediately upon closing my eyes for a nap, usually when sitting in an airplane or in a car passenger seat. I don't even need to wait for the REM stage; the action begins right away. On top of that, I have been a "lucid" dreamer as long as I can remember, meaning that I often realize that I am dreaming and can have fun with it.
None of this intense introversion keeps me from socializing or noticing my surroundings when I choose to; as a matter of fact, it is precisely because I must make a conscious choice to do those things that I excel at them. I can work a room at a party, ace a job interview, give speeches to packed auditoriums, and perceive how traffic is behaving all around me as I drive. For example, most drivers automatically lurch for the nearest open space without pausing to see how traffic ahead is evolving, which often leaves them stuck in a slower lane and zipping back and forth in epimethean frenzy. I, on the other hand, get the complete lay of the land before making a decision where to go, and as a result I get there much faster.
But there is a price to pay for such excellence, and it is depletion. Extroverts really just don't get how taxing and even painful it can be for an introvert to be as outgoing as our modern, shallow society demands. Introverts get flack for not being able to keep up this persona all the time, so we have to cope with fatigue as well as scorn.
Properly understood, introversion means having inner mental energy, so we introverts give off and lose this energy when interacting with the world. Extroverts, on the other hand, lack inner mental energy and suck it away from their surroundings. Introverts are like internal combustion engines that run low on fuel and need to be serviced; extroverts are like solar panels or windmills that lie dormant unless actuated from without. Otherwise stated: introverts are givers, but extroverts are takers.
The world needs both types. Unfortunately, modern society craves the miraculous fruits of introversion while despising introverts themselves, and the ascendance of extroversion parallels the ascendance of the taker mentality. Introverts are told that we need to get with the program and be like extroverts, but the extroverts' world would collapse if we did. And it just so happens that we already are far better at being like you when necessary than you could ever be like us -- we can fake the effervescence and superficiality of extroversion for various lengths of time, but you cannot hope to fake the reflectiveness and creativity of introversion for a second.
Imagine if things were reversed and introverts demanded that extroverts stop chatting at work or stay at home and read more often. Imagine further that extroverts' inability to do such things were pathologized and framed as a "problem" to work out on pain of losing your job, being denied tenure, or being abandoned by a spouse. Pretty horrific, right? That is our reality, and we're justifiably pissed off about it.
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