I AM an Introvert… And Glad for It.

We introverts are a put-upon clan. We live in a world of noise, cluttered by the racket made by a world that confuses content with quantity: verbiage rather than substance. We are not shy, just reserved. We are not without social skills, indeed ours have to be more finely honed as we live in a world that is, by its nature, hostile toward our preferred way of being in the world. However, why would we care what the world thinks? Our impressions are born within and do not seek to be validated from without. It is good to be an introvert. Moreover, not only an introvert, but also an INTP. Damn, life is good.

Jung’s Typology of Personality
I am a proud INTP. Yes, we are the rarest of people. We are those whose motivation is drawn purely from within. We live in a world of intuition, able to think in terms of metaphor and to see shades of meanings. We live in a rich world of thought and we see endless possibilities. We are the dreamers, the creators, the philosophers and the architects. Ours is a world of potential that does not require us to be tied to any dogma or any tradition. I like the Webster definition of introvert: “the state or tendency toward being wholly or predominantly concerned with and interested in one's own mental life.”

It seems that the artistic mediums to which I have been most attracted – photography and music – are the sine qua non of the INTP. It is not surprising that I prefer music that is harmonically iconoclastic (Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, Gerry Mulligan) to music that is linear or predictable. I like Satie because his music just doesn’t care about expectations. It is for its own sake on its own terms. Very much as I am.

Socially Astute
I have always said that introverts live in two cultures; the larger extroverted American culture and, what is more important, the culture of our minds. I have learned to be very flexible, how to speak and survive in an extroverted world, all the time wondering if they have ever savored a moment of silence in their lives full of noise that they confuse for content. I wonder how they live in the din and how they can parse out what is valuable for the excess of verbiage. I know how to speak and how to live in the world, so much so that many people think that I am extroverted. But my energy is drawn from within. I love a moment alone, to listen to Bach on the cello or enjoy a beautiful poem. It is not that we are anti-social; I think that we are anti-intrusion.

I admit that I have a mighty need of time alone. This feeds my soul and allows me to find the energy to be in a world of sensory assault.

I am an introvert, and proud. I am self-sufficient without falling into the myth of the solipsism. I am able to be with others and content to be alone. I am the paradox. I am an introvert.