My definition of social

Don found this and sent it to me for a chuckle. I see nothing wrong with it, do you?

My new (introvert) hero

I like to save any links or references I come across on the subject of introverts, since that's what we are. Introverts have sort of "come into" their own during the pandemic lockdowns, since suddenly everyone wanted to know what it is they do all day.

In fact, the pandemic highlighted introverts as no other incident has ever done.

Extroverts have had it tough over the last year, no mistake. "Before the pandemic, I would spend a couple of hours at home, and then I would just get bored and want to go walk around or sit at the coffee shop or see if a friend wanted to get a drink," noted one extrovert in an interview. "It would just start to psychologically wear on me if I was alone for too long." The lockdowns made this woman realize "I’m even more of an extrovert than I originally thought."

But introverts and lockdowns? They go together like bacon and eggs.

In a piece on What Introverts Wished Extroverts Would Understand, one respondent wrote, "I live alone on a farm. I don't go out to the local bars. I don't try to date any locals. Some weeks I don't ever leave the property. And people always ask me how I can stand to live in the middle of nowhere. Well [bleep], that's the easy part."

When Don and I first got married in 1990, I was working a corporate job. Fortunately our office was small and the situation was fine for introverts, but once or twice a year I was required to attend a conference and "network" (that was the buzzword at the time). Don actually had to rehearse me on how to "work" a room full of strangers, because my first inclination would be to retreat into a corner and simply observe.

I've come a long way since then, but make no mistake, that's still my first inclination. It's every introvert's first inclination, no matter how much they train or rehearse to overcome it. This is not an issue of shyness – I'm not the least bit shy – but of preference. Introverts simply aren't built for socialization on a loud or large scale.

Introverts, as it turns out, are likely to be less politically active, less active on social media, and less likely to be corporate leaders. As one (introverted) psychologist concluded, "This state of affairs leaves many of the decisions relating to the daily life of introverts in the hands of the extroverts."

This psychologist also noted, "Introversion is not something to be fixed – but a blessed source of human diversity." In a world built for and by extroverts, introverts bring their own set of strengths to the table.

Yet, through it all, introversion is still seen as something that must be "fixed" for the happiness and well-being of those poor misguided introverts. In a 2019 University of California study, 123 people were tasked with acting like extroverts for a week. Participants were "asked to be talkative, assertive and spontaneous in their daily interactions with other people." The following week, the same group was asked to act like introverts.

The findings, apparently, were "remarkable": "'It was the biggest effect we've ever found in any of our studies,” says Dr Sonja Lyubomirsky, the lead researcher. 'When people acted extrovert, they experienced more positive emotions and satisfaction. When they acted introvert, they experienced fewer positive emotions.' She speculates that this is because, at heart, humans are social creatures. 'Social relationships are inherently rewarding for us. We have a need to belong and to connect with each other.'"

In other words, introverts would be happier if they'd just, you know, stop being introverts. Got it.

Personally I'm more inclined toward this article: "Acting Like an Extrovert Has Benefits, but Not for Introverts" which quoted a team of researchers led by the psychologist Rowan Jacques-Hamilton at the University of Melbourne: "Until we have a well-rounded understanding of both the positive and negative consequences of extroverted behavior, advocating any real-world applications of acting extroverted could be premature and potentially hazardous."

Rock on, Dr. Jacques-Hamilton.

The reason I decided to post about introverts today is because I just saw a funny anecdote about someone who was unaware of the whole pandemic:

Talk about the ultimate introvert! Whoever this guy is, he's my new hero. I, too, look forward to the day when I can go months without leaving the homestead and be blissfully clueless about whether or not there's even a pandemic.

Now excuse me, it's time to go get some oats.

Silent book clubs

So here's an interesting trend I just caught wind of: Silent book clubs.

Apparently these quiet reading groups grew out of dissatisfaction with standard book clubs where reading material is "assigned" and, as often as not, members cram their assigned reading just before a meeting in a manner that's termed "demanding."

In contrast, members of silent book clubs meet up in a public space with a book of their choice, then spent an hour reading in silence.

"Liberated from the orthodoxy of traditional book clubs, participants can bring whatever they'd like to read and chat about anything, before and after the designated reading time," states the article.

As a further explanation:

The idea began with two friends reading together at a bar in San Francisco, annoyed by the assigned reading of a demanding book club.

"I wished that I had a book club where basically there was no assigned reading but you could just show up, hang out with your friends, talk about what you were reading and then just sort of read your book with no pressure to prepare snacks or vacuum your house or do any of the things that normal, traditional book club hosting entails," says Guinevere de la Mare, who co-founded the organization with Laura Gluhanich in 2012.

Thus was born what some are terming "introvert happy hour" (or "SoulCycle for shy people") with chapters meeting all over the country. They often meet in bars or other public areas, enjoy a drink, and act as convivial as only introverts can act when they have a good book and are surrounded by other book-lovers.

Here's how the founder describes it:

Once a month, a group of friends meet up at a bar after work. We sink into leather couches, we order drinks, and we pull out our books. There’s chatter about who’s reading what, author recommendations mix with gossip, and a few books swap hands. The drinks arrive, a cheese plate appears, and the books-and-wine tableau is snapped, filtered, and hashtagged. As conversation dies down, we put our phones away and begin to read. It’s a Monday evening so the bar is quiet. A classically trained pianist drifts from Bach to Adele without rustling a page of sheet music. We order more drinks. A few late-comers trickle in and are greeted warmly. We turn back to our books, and read.

Apparently many book swaps happen at these events ("Hey, I'm interested in reading XYZ, does anyone have a copy I can borrow?") and no one is pressured to get any "assigned" reading completed.

"By creating this sanctuary in a bar," notes a British chapter, "the club endorses reading as not just important, but also entertaining. It’s hushed, but don’t be fooled: Once a month, there’s no place more happening."

If I lived closer to a city, I'd seriously consider joining (or starting) a chapter. As it is, I can't justify a two-hour round trip for an hour's reading time in a public location.

But still, what a cool idea! Check it out.

Americans are bored half the year

There's an old saying: "The devil finds work for idle hands." Translation: Those who don't have enough to do often get into trouble by doing things they shouldn't.

This came to mind when I saw a recent Drudge headline: "Americans Mired In Boredom 131 Days A Year, Survey Finds."

For the survey, the researchers defined a boring day as one that involved simply no fun at all. The solution suggested by the article was for people to get out and have more "fun."

"Full-time, 'adult' responsibilities, particularly work and parenting, appear to be sucking the fun out of American adults’ lives," it said. "The results showed that 60% of participants believe their life is just too 'grown-up.' In fact, 73% miss aspects of what they remember from childhood, such as spending time with friends (50%), fewer responsibilities (52%), and attending birthday parties (25%)."

(Hmmmm, methinks the article was written by an extrovert whose concept of "fun" does NOT involve curling up with a good book and a cup of tea. By the way, it was C.S. Lewis who said, "You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me." Amen.)

The funny thing is, this article appeared at a time when Don and I have been nearly frantic with work. Writing projects, article deadlines, home renovations, property improvements, packing ... in short, all the tasks involved in preparing to sell a home have occupied our time. Our fun has consisted of walking Mr. Darcy to the mailboxes and back (a three-mile round trip) to relax and get some exercise, followed by time spent with a good book and a glass of wine. (Well, the wine's for me. Don's not a wine drinker. But you catch my drift.)

The article continues, "As for what exactly is keeping us from having any fun, 36% agree the cost of a day or night of entertainment alone was enough to keep them home. Many others — 35% of respondents — are just too pooped out to enjoy some extracurriculars. Nearly a third (32%) have too much work to do."

Don and I also have too much work to do -- but we enjoy it. However for many people, work is associated with stress. "Many surveyed cited stress as a major role in their fun drought," noted the article.

We have tons of work, but little to no stress. This is no accident; we simply avoid stressful work as much as we can.

"Despite so much boredom," concluded the article, "the survey showed that Americans still spend an average of $303 each month on fun activities, or about $3,500 annually. For parents, that number balloons to about $5,000 on the year."

Sputter sputter. $303 each month on FUN activities? Who has the money for that? How much more would you have to work to earn that money to blow on "fun" things?

I think my world view differs greatly from that of the article's author.

In praise of introverts

Let's talk introverts. It's estimated that one-quarter to one-third of the population is afflicted with this crippling condition, so it's worth a blog post.

What is an introvert? It's defined as "a personality trait characterized by a focus on internal feelings rather than on external sources of stimulation. … People who are introverted tend to be inward turning, or focused more on internal thoughts, feelings and moods rather than seeking out external stimulation," according to this link.

The interesting thing is how many people (notably, extroverts) think introverts need "fixing." Somehow it's looked upon as a flaw that must be corrected so these poor pathetic souls can function in today's high-octane world.

But as a confirmed introvert, I beg to differ. Since my earliest days, I've liked solitude. In fact I spent a significant portion of my young childhood wanting to be a hermit.

I have a distinct memory of when I was five or six years old and I wanted to run away from home. Not because I had family troubles (on the contrary, I grew up with a warm and loving family, and we seldom had arguments or conflicts) but because I wanted to live in a little house all by myself somewhere in the woods. When my mother stopped me from leaving to fulfill this dream, I remember crying piteously while she held me in her arms, because I still wanted to run away.

Then, and later, I spent a lot of time designing tiny and solitary living spaces out in the woods somewhere. With books. Lots of books.

Yes, books. The best thing in the world for a kid like me was books. "My Side of the Mountain" was my favorite, and for years I wanted to emulate the boy Sam's adventures as he lived off the land in the Catskill Mountains – by himself.

It's no accident I became a field biologist before and after marriage, working in remote areas such as the White Mountains of California, the high Sierras, the deep southwest Oregon woods, and other out-of-the-way places. I relished this work until having babies made it impractical.

Neither is it an accident that we live on a farm in a fairly remote corner of Idaho. As introverts, we thrive on solitude and the company of each other. We can easily go days without leaving home or socializing with anyone other than our neighbors.

Since we chose to homeschool our kids and added the double insult of homeschooling them on a farm, we were constantly on the receiving end of Standard Homeschooling Criticism No. 1: "But what about socialization?" The inference, either implied or stated, was we were doing our girls a disservice to raise them under conditions that could lead them towards becoming (gasp) introverts. The widespread societal criticism of "What about socialization?" for homeschooled children claims that without the constant presence of hundreds or thousands of other students, children grow up psychologically twisted, malformed, and with the social skills of woodlice.

But what if they merely became...introverts?

Most extroverts don't understand introverts. After all, humans are sociable creatures and deliberately seek out interaction with others. But not everyone wants constant socialization. The Charles Ingallses of the world sought to live in distant woods or lonely prairies because they longed for solitude and independence, not constant people and unstoppable conversations.

But the world revolves around extroverts. "For decades, personality psychologists have noticed a striking, consistent pattern: extroverts are happier more of the time than introverts," notes this article. "For anyone interested in promoting well-being, this has raised the question of whether it might be beneficial to encourage people to act more extroverted. Evidence to date has suggested it might."

Bull-tucky.

The article says "people tend to report feeling happier and more authentic whenever they are behaving more like an extrovert (that is, more sociable, active and assertive)." But here's the thing: introverts can be sociable, active, and assertive too – and then they need to go away and recharge their batteries before they can play-act those traits again when called upon to do so.

Once again, "research" like this illustrates the compulsion to "fix" introverts because they're somehow flawed. Extroverts assume introverts are unhappy in their solitude and just need to get out more.

(As a side note, a few years ago I came across an interesting article called "Time alone? Many would rather hurt themselves." The gist of the article is most people "would rather inflict pain on themselves than spend 15 minutes in a room with nothing to do but think." Now tell me again – who needs fixing?)

It's true that introverts rarely become powerful leaders. That's not their style, and they rarely crave power. But never underestimate their strength. It's just not brash, hey-everyone-look-at-me kind of strength.

Even phones are viewed with some irritation. As early as age 14, I viewed talking on the phone, even to dear friends, as a waste of time. (I've amended that now since so many friends and family are widespread and seldom seen.) But to me, phones are primarily instruments to convey minimal information. Once that information is conveyed, the conversation can be over. Maybe that's why I don't care for cell phones except as necessary objects for conveying important information as briefly and concisely as possible, i.e. roadside emergencies.

As it turns out, introversion may be biological – embedded in our DNA: "Introverts have a lot of the chemical that makes them feel stimulated; extroverts don't have so much. This is why introverts tend to avoid crowded places or deadlines – things that are likely to put extra pressure on them – because they already have pressure within themselves."

"As an introvert, you are more energized by spending time on your own, or in very small intimate groups of people you trust," states this article. "So when you are out in a social environment that is very highly stimulating, what happens is that while the extrovert gets more and more incandescent and magnetic, the introvert starts shrinking and shrinking away."

Yep. Been there done that.

In short, extroverts think introverts are wrong and must be changed. Many extroverts think introvert tendencies can be overcome if the introverts in question are exposed to enough socializing opportunities, whether it's nightclubs or parties or merely get-togethers or even frequent phone calls.

But socialization for introverts is like eating hot chili peppers: a little goes a long way. Too much spice – too much socializing – mentally exhausts (rather than exhilarates) introverts, and they need a period of recovery before the next social occasion. That's the way introverts work. We need a lot of alone time to recharge our batteries.

Extroverts get their batteries charged by social interaction, so the more social time they get, the happier and more energized they are. They thrive on social situations. It feeds their souls and energizes them. Solitude is boring, depressing, and something to avoid.

Bottom line, it's not that introverts don't like people or fun events; it's just that we can't handle too many or too much.

But give us stacks of books, a quiet room or porch or meadow, a bunch of poufy clouds to contemplate, a country road to walk on, a corner of a coffee shop, an empty park, an intimate gathering of friends, a library or bookstore on a rainy day...and we're happy as clams.

I should make it clear introversion and extroversion fall along a spectrum. While there are extremes at both ends, most people fall somewhere on the continuum. Many introverts are terrified of public speaking, for example, and I'm not. Nor does introverted necessarily mean shy (I'm not in the least bit shy). It's all a continuum.

If there's one thing to remember about introverts, it's this: they're not broken. They don't need fixing. They are still perfectly capable of functioning in society, performing their jobs, making friends, having happy marriage, etc. They just do it a little differently.

So don't try to fix them.

The longing for solitude

Our family experiences a lot of solitude.

It's inevitable where we live. It takes a lot more work to socialize, certainly more than just stepping out our front door where we're far more likely to bump into a deer than a person. Therefore our default status is solitude.

Solitude is defined as "the state of being or living alone; remoteness from habitations; or a lonely, unfrequented place." If you consult a thesaurus, you'll notice there's not really many flattering synonyms for solitude. The best the English language can offer is Loneliness, Privacy, Isolation, Seclusion. They all have negative connotations, as if solitude is something to be avoided.

But our family loves solitude. Each one of us thrives on Loneliness, Privacy, Isolation, and Seclusion.

While undoubtedly there are some intensely social types for whom solitude is a panicky state of affairs devoutly to be avoided, this clearly isn't universal. In fact, if you google "the longing for solitude" on the internet, you find a lot of people who long to "find" themselves and so depart far away in order to locate what apparently has been lost. Invariably they discover what they're seeking, pen some heartfelt poetry, and return once again to their normal, crowded lives. In other words, solitude is considered at best a temporary state of affairs, a time to recharge one's batteries before facing the Real World once again.

But it also seems to be a psychological necessity. Psychology Today notes, "What's really blocking our joy in relationships, our creativity, and our peace of mind? One surprising answer, in this age of alienation, is a lack of solitude. Meaningful alonetime, it turns out, is a powerful need and a necessary tonic in today's rapid-fire world. Indeed, solitude actually allows us to connect to others in a far richer way.

Invariably, solitude meets with social questioning, if not censure. Even worse, people associate going it alone with antisocial pursuits and unnecessary risk taking. Perhaps most striking, solitude conjures up pangs of loneliness."

In other words, solitude is an apologetic longing, as if it's shameful not to thrive in crowds or need a break once in awhile from the hustle and bustle.

And while solitude is acknowledged as good and necessary, no one quite knows what to do with people who prefer solitude.

Not all of us who seek solitude are "lost." Some of us have found solitude to be so enjoyable that we've made it our normal status quo. In fact it might be argued that we solitary types have already "found" ourselves and are subsequently so comfortable being alone or with beloved family members that we have no need to buffet our senses with a great number of others.

I hope this doesn't sound like we don't wish to socialize with friends and neighbors because nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, we are blessed to have neighbors who are also friends and with whom we enjoy socializing.

What I mean is, we do not miss the intensely and unavoidably social environs of urban life. I see photos of full stadiums, and it makes me recoil. I have absolutely no desire to be among such a sea of humanity.

There's a certain beauty in urban landscapes, but I couldn't live there. Been there, done that.

I find myself far more drawn to photos of lonely, beautiful spots:

Lately on my Pandora station, I've been "up thumbing" examples of early church music and Gregorian chants to supplement my beloved selection of Baroque classical music. Perhaps unconsciously I recognize the pull of solitude early Christians felt in order to hear the voice of God more clearly.

These early Christians were merely part of a subset of humanity who has always preferred solitude to society. Thoreau is probably the best known example, but consider these lines from William Butler Yeats (1839-1922):

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

Even Jane Austen in her book Emma has Jane Fairfax lament, "Oh! Miss Woodhouse, the comfort of being sometimes alone!"

I get up very early in the morning, sometimes around 4 am. In the winter this means I light the woodstove and feel the flames gradually start to warm the house. The dawn breaks hours later, and it's my habit to walk outside to release the chickens, then sneak into the barn to watch the deer that can invariably be found at the edge of the woods, browsing.

In the summer these early hours means I'm privileged to listen to meadowlarks and robins as they greet the day. Sometimes I see dawn rainbows on the edge of a retreating shower.

It's because we have the luxury of lots of solitude that we enjoy the occasional excursions into hyper-socialization, i.e. sales trips.

When those excursions are over, we retreat once again into our beloved solitude where we can water the garden, make some tankards, watch the deer, have dinner with neighbors, commune with the chickens, milk a cow, or watch a sunrise.

The best of both worlds.