•Restorative narratives. According to psychiatrist, Dr. Dan Siegel, forming coherent narratives that explain how our childhood relationships affect us now, can help us transcend insecurity. If we can see how our past wounds shaped us and influence our reactions, we have a good chance of overcoming the negative impact. If we can frame our obstacles in a positive light, all the better. For example, if we were forced to be self-reliant and autonomous as a child because our caregiver was not available, we can now view our independence and the ability to get things done as strengths that help us achieve in our career. Our career success gives us confidence, helps us maintain personal integrity and helps us handle the ups and downs of a relationship better
•Value based work/contributing. Valued work or as Professor Brian Little calls it in Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, personal projects allow us to act like extroverts. Our values are ingrained in the work, which gives us the energy to advocate and strive to accomplish an endeavor. Carl Jung, arguably the first declared introvert, did his deep work both in his stone house outside of Zurich (Bollingen) and in Zurich while seeing patients. He wrote in Bollingen and practiced psychiatry in Zurich. According to Cal Newport in his book, Deep Work, Jung used a bi-modal philosophy to achieve deep work. By employing solitude to tap into his inner voice while working in Bollingen and expressing and using his skills with patients, colleagues, family and friends in Zurich, he accessed both his internal and external world. Another important facet of valued work is its contribution to the greater good. It may start out as research to gain insight about ourselves, but in the end what we learn benefits more than ourselves. I know this path well. I started out getting quietly focused on reading and research to learn about my own temperament, but ended up being a voice for other sensitive individuals. My writing and personal coaching are perfect outlets for sharing what I learn and what I value (authenticity, empathy, and secure relationships). I can honestly say my work gives me energy. Deeply valued work and relationships require less adaptation and therefore do not drain us as much. I could not stop doing my work if I wanted to
•The arts and creativity. Acts of creativity bring the inside out. Acting, writing, painting, dancing, software design, etc, may start with outside inspiration, but they then move to the inner workings of our imagination and expand. Once an idea or project is manifested it is introduced to the outside world again. Artists often spend a lot of time alone, because it takes intense concentration to make associations and connections between items that have not been connected before. It takes quiet to hear and feel their emotions. Many creators like to hide behind their work. A scripted character is the perfect disguise for someone ordinarily uncomfortable in the spotlight. Once a project is complete, it is time for an audience. Dr. Laurie Helgoe says the expression of internal contents without interruption is a very introverted desire. It is the joining of inner and outer worlds. Authors get to spend countless hours alone working on their craft, tapping into their inner voice, but eventually share their writing with others or at the very least have a tangible piece of external work representing their thoughts
•Movement that puts us in tune with our minds and bodies. Yoga, running, swimming, martial arts, dancing…the list is practically endless. The key characteristic is the ability to remain self-contained while participating outwardly in the activity. It’s possible to dance within a crowded club for instance, but still be deliciously in our head. Our bodies and minds are active. We exist in the inner and outer world
BEING WELL-RESOURCED
Balance and contentment come when we feel well-resourced. We are well-resourced if we feel supported in our relationships and we get enough time for restorative inner work.
If we diminish uncertainty within our relationship, we reduce the amount of energy we spend obsessing and worrying about its viability. Security frees up resources. With replenished energy, we can focus on personal development and relationship support. No one grows or learns well in a hostile, depleting environment. Always auditioning or waiting for the relationship to end exhausts us. Consistent reassurance from both partners toward each other, fills us up. Knowing there will be conflict, flaws and past baggage, but having an attitude of “We will work through everything together” allows us to relax. Accepting each other as we are is a huge energy boost.
When I was married, there was little reassurance between my husband and me. We both had our own professional and familial agendas. We had our visions and needed the other to play their role. We didn’t look at each other as loving support or cherished individuals. We were resources for social and professional climbing. We were caregivers to our children but not to each other.
I made the mistake of asking for a divorce every year in the summer. I had little opportunity to self-soothe in the summer with the kids home. I needed the most comfort and emotional support from my partner during those days, but I did not know how to ask for it and he did not know how to provide it. I would rescind the request for a divorce and try to work on the marriage throughout the year, but then in the summer when my nerves were shot after having the kids home every day and no real reassurance in my husband’s love for me as a person, I would ask for a divorce again. This threat to our marriage kept my husband auditioning all the time. There is no way he could have felt safe, when I had made it clear I was unhappy and had one foot out the door.
During those last few years of the marriage, it was deemed selfish of me to want to do work other than parental caregiving, spousal support, and household maintenance. Any time I dedicated to writing, learning, or volunteer work (outside of the kids’ schools) was seen as time I chose to leave my family unsupported. I now understand I most likely triggered a feeling of abandonment (for my husband and my children) when I chose to do those things. That, coupled with my annual divorce request, definitely had my husband on edge. In that environment, neither of us was well-resourced.
During those years, if I had an hour or two to work on writing I was lucky. Most of my creative time was peppered with interruptions from kids, my husband, repairman, etc. I used to feel trapped. I longed for time alone. I would get angry when interrupted. I needed solitude and work time to self-regulate. I exhibited avoidantly attached characteristics. I wanted to grow and develop but I had no time or energy for it.
Now, my children are older and more independent. I have a supportive and reassuring partner. I have time during the day to devote to research, writing, and coaching. When the kids come home after school, I shut down my work. When my daughter gets home she comes into my home office and plops down in my big cozy chair, chosen specifically for its sit-down-stay-a-while design. I join my sons in the kitchen for a snack and after-school catch-up session. I turn toward them. I look into their eyes (but not too much, teens don’t love that). I listen and respond to their comments. We connect through presence. The state of presence is learned. It takes effort to not allow distractions to pull us away. Responsiveness is key. When we are loved and reassured, we flourish.
BALANCE
Security and insight make transitions easier. They make us calm. I get my fill in both inner and outer arenas and therefore find it easier to move between the two.
I had to learn what to respond to, what I valued most. I do not have the time to respond deeply (as most introverts and highly sensitive people prefer) to everything. Priorities must be sorted by values. Being mindful of our allostatic load also helps. Those activities and relationships that only add to our stress and anxiety, have to be pruned. Constantly adapting or acting out of character overwhelms and exhausts us. Those experiences and relationships we find meaningful have to be developed. There is a balancing act between inner and outer satisfaction, between authenticity and relationship. The most meaningful balance derives from interdependence and the ability to move fluidly between independence and dependence.
It has been said that maturity is the balance between courage and
consideration. It takes courage to assert our own perspective. It takes consideration to ask others theirs. I’m slowly learning how to create such balance. When we are surrounded by secure relationships and have time to go deeply introspective, we are full. We are balanced. We are both introvert and extrovert, but mostly we are content.
THE CHALLENGES TO HONORING OUR INNER AND OUTER WORLD
In our culture, sensitivity is often seen as weak. Honoring our desire for a calm and introspective inner state feels like we are inferior to our bolder counterparts.
According to Dr. Elaine Aron’s work in the area of high sensitivity, 15-20% of the population is highly sensitive, including animal species. Recent studies show highly reactive children do worse in negative environments but better in positive or neutral ones. Their immune systems are more resistant and levels of anxiety are lower than less reactive children when they reside in positive supportive environments.
Action steps to increase our fortitude and resilience are:
1.Seek and invest in responsive and reassuring relationships.
2.Engage in meaningful and valued work. Notice where you enter the flow state. Give yourself time to deeply concentrate by minimizing distractions.
3.Form your redemptive narrative. See how nature and nurturing influenced your temperament and personality. How did your struggles fortify you?
Quite often we find ourselves spending a majority of our time in our inner or outer world. There is an imbalance that makes us tired, overwhelmed and unfulfilled. We do not feel whole.
Action steps for managing the imbalance:
1.Realize it is OK to devote more time to one realm occasionally. There will always be trade-offs. Some days your family needs you more. Some days you need to exist in solitude to recover from over-extending yourself. The goal is a long-term overall balance.
2.Recognize the imbalance and intentionally work to restore balance. Most of the time this impulse will come naturally. Our psyche craves wholeness, as Jung pointed out. If you’ve been in your head thinking and thinking, make an effort to get into your body or your environment. Take a yoga class or go running (which are actually crossover activities, engaging both your body and your spirit/mind). Which brings us to the last suggestion for restoring balance…
3.Look for crossover activities. As mentioned earlier in this chapter, activities that engage the inner and outer worlds promote bliss. You can find contentment and a feeling of balance in acts of creativity; nourishing relationships; values-based work that contributes to the greater good; restorative narratives and independent athletics.
CONCLUSION
Safe in Solitude and Relationship
The conclusion of this book includes a personal epilogue and a summary of the maturity evolution that leads to resilience and a fulfilling life for the sensitive introvert.
“Mary also was an accomplished ballet dancer as a child, which gave her a way to work off energy and to find a niche in which she excelled. That talent, plus being raised in what Kagan called a ‘benevolent home environment,‘ might have helped shift Mary’s innate inhibition to something more constructive. If Mary’s high-reactive temperament is evident now, it comes out in the form of conscientiousness and self-control.” —Robin Marantz Henig, Understanding the Anxious Mind, New York Times Magazine
Some newborns have more sensitive nervous systems. They startle easily. Their heart rate shoots up and their blood pressure rises more than others when they face new situations. These are children Jerome Kagan labeled highly reactive in his experiments. We discussed these experiments earlier in Practice 8: Honoring Our Inner and Outer Worlds. Of the 20% of infants who reacted strongly from exposure to novel stimuli, only a fifth of them reacted as sharply to stressful experiences at age ten or eleven. A third of the 40% labeled low-reactives still remained especially calm. Most of the kids in the later experiment had moved toward the middle or a more moderate temperament. Almost none of the kids moved from one extreme to the other. This suggests that disposition evolves over the course of our lives depending on how outside experiences wire our brain. The range of evolution has limits based on our innate temperament. We are never going to go from highly reactive and anxious to cool as a cucumber. We may move from highly reactive to a calmer more moderate temperament.
We manage our emotions and reactions better when we are well-resourced. Well-resourced for sensitive people means we’ve had time to ourselves to develop self-awareness, self-discipline, and self-soothing as well as time with others to create trusting, safe, and loving relationships. Interdependence and being well-resourced go hand in hand. We arrive at interdependence by advancing along a maturity continuum.
DEVELOPING RESILIENCE AS A HIGHLY SENSITIVE AND/OR INTROVERTED PERSON
We move through the maturity continuum by passing in and out of stages of dependency and independence and ultimately landing in interdependence.
DEPENDENT
As young children we are extremely reliant or dependent on our primary caregivers, usually our parents. Ideally, they provide a deep sense of trust and safety—two cornerstones of secure attachment. They see our inborn temperaments and respond sensitively to them. Even if we are fussy or “slow to warm up” children, our parents accept us.
As I mentioned, I was a fussy, colicky baby. I depended on my mother to nurture and care for me despite all of the unpleasant crying. I am not sure how much time my mom spent talking and cuddling with me, but I am certain she took care of my basic needs. I have a feeling she was attentive as far as eye contact and talking to me. She passed away two years ago and would probably have claimed not to remember, if I had asked her; so I am left only with speculation based on her later behavior. I also believe parents were a tad more removed in the 70s than they are currently. It was, for instance, more accepted to bottle-feed than breastfeed back then. I was fed formula.
As we grow up, but remain in the dependence stage, we seek other’s approval and rely on them to give us an identity based on their reactions to our behavior and temperament. We begin a search for admiration. We focus on socially approved motivations such as good grades, a large social circle, or making the cheerleading or basketball team. Later, as young adults, we may look at going to college or finding the right job post-high school. Making money and starting a family eventually creep into our identity formation. We want to belong to something and we want to fit in.
My father, again being a dad of the 70s, spent most of his time at work or out in the yard or garage. I’m not entirely certain he was even at my birth. As a young girl, I remember waiting for my dad to come home so we could have dinner. He often worked late. After my parents divorced (I was seven when they separated), I traveled back and forth between parental houses—seeing my dad on Thursday nights and every other weekend. My dad soon remarried and started another family. He also began to buy shoe stores and spend even more time at work. He paid child support and was extremely interesting and loving when he was present, but he was a busy man with lots of people depending on him. He also had passions that motivated him, such as car racing. His new wife and sons appreciated and participated in those passions. My sister and I were not as interested or involved in them. We wanted him to be involved in our interests. My sister spoke up about it, and my dad and stepmom attended most of her athletic events.
My dad gave us kids a gift in that he said “No” to us. He also taught us how to work. He showed us how to wash dishes, dust, and vacuum. I learned if I wanted personal time with him, a good way to get it was to work with him. I would go with him to one of our out-of-town show stores during a special sale day (like sidewalk days or back-to-school time) and help. We would have a good breakfast, leave early in the morning, and drive to the store. The time in the car with Dad listening to music and talking was priceless. He would point out landmarks as we drove and talk about the crops in the fields and how they were thriving or not. He’d menti
on people he knew or memories he had in each town or village we drove through. After a long morning of setting up and waiting on the public, he would take me to a local restaurant for lunch and introduce me to the people he knew. The long hours on my feet measuring other people’s feet and selling shoes was well worth the chance to be close to Dad.
We hated Dad’s distractedness and sternness at the time, but looking back I see how his work ethic, passion and ability to say “No,” taught us self-discipline, self-motivation, and how to appreciate things we earned or were given.
My mother remained unmarried for the rest of her life. She was consistently there making sure food was on the table, toiletries, school supplies and that our social status remained reasonably respectable. She drove my sister and me back and forth to our friends’ houses and supplied us with a car when we could drive. We had regular healthcare, hair appointments, and shopping trips. She scheduled around us.
My sister and I had a combative relationship our whole childhood. Resources were tight (money, attention, bathroom time), so we competed. We picked on each other verbally and hit each other physically. As someone with a highly reactive nervous system, it was much more comfortable to stay away from her. I would have given anything to be on the same team with her but the common belief was if we showed kindness or vulnerability the other one would use it to hurt us.
My immediate family gave me a sense of identity. At the time, it was a quiet, sensitive and slightly insecure identity. There was an inconsistent feeling of safety in my childhood homes. It was not safe when my sister was around because conflict inevitably ensued. My dad was often not available for soothing and his house had a more chaotic atmosphere because of all the people and activities. My mom was harried by life’s responsibilities and lack of support. That may sound like a lot of uncertainty and insecurity, but the majority of my childhood felt safe due to my parents’ overall commitment to the family and the presence of good solid friendships and wonderful grandparents. I vividly remember receiving a loopy-lettered, hand-written note from my best friend, Laura, while visiting my grandparents for a week in the summer. Laura told me everything I had missed at home and most importantly, she told me she missed me. That letter and the nurturing I received from my loving grandparents that week had my cup of security running over.
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