Introvert | Wayfarer

upload — Morning quiet at the lake (Photo credit: Tom Vander Well)

At daybreak, Jesus went out to a solitary place.
Luke 4:42 (NIV)

When our daughters were in high school our family took the Myers-Briggs personality inventory together. We then spent a few hours with my friend, who is a marriage and family therapist, talking about the results. It was fascinating, not only to see each others results (I’m an ENFP), but also to understand our perceptions of one another. I remember that Madison was shocked to discover that I was an extrovert, and I was shocked that she would think I was an introvert.

“But every morning,” she explained, “you get up and spend time alone in quiet.” Based on that daily observation, she assumed that I was introverted. I’ve learned that extraversion and introversion are really about personal energy rather than being particularly social or shy. As an extrovert, I get energized by being around people and social situations. In fact, just the other week I shared with Wendy that being alone together at the lake for days on end had my personal energy tank on reserve. Spending a few hours at the pool around a crowd of people helped fill me up.

The truth is, my time of solitude each morning is not about recharging my personal batteries (in fact, it often causes me to miss out on much needed sleep) as much as it’s about keeping myself centered and finding balance. My entire day feels off-kilter when I miss my time of quiet to read, think, write, and have conversations of spirit with God. Sleeping in, for me, has always been accompanied with the grief of missing my time of solitude.

This morning’s chapter reminds me that Jesus liked his morning solitude, too. This morning, as I type this post in the early morning quiet of my hotel room, I am taking selfish pleasure in this trivial connection; Jesus and I have a mutual appreciation and understanding of morning solitude.

Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
Psalm 84:4-5 (NIV)

People are complex. I’ve discovered this in my own journey of self-discovery. I’ve discovered it in character studies I’ve carried out as an actor. I’ve discovered this in relationships with family and friends. People are rarely one-dimension. Humanity is not a simple equation. In these two adjacent lines from Psalm 84 I found two sides of myself.

Something you probably don’t know is that most mornings in the quiet of my home office as I write my daily post I’m listening to Gregorian Chant. I was probably one of the few people who got really excited about an article in the Wall Street Journal last week about a group of cloistered Missouri nuns whose CD of chants and sacred ancient music have made it to the top of the classical music charts. Meet Brother Tom, the monastic wannabe. There is part of me that feels called to the quiet and the simple. I long to dwell in the House of the Lord in quiet isolation to read, pray, and write.

A few years ago Wendy, the girls and I all did personality profiles and talked about our differences. I was amazed when Madison said she always thought of me as an introvert. She woke every morning across the hall from my office seeing me isolated in my pseudo-monastic quiet.

But there is the other part of me that people are more familiar with. Tom, the extrovert. Tom, the guy up front. Tom, the performer. Tom, the is called to the outside. My heart is set on pilgrimage in this life. I’m a pilgrim journeying through the arts, through corporate America, and through community.

The monk and the wayfaring pilgrim. We are all multi-dimensional people. We are not stamped out on an assembly line. God hand-crafted each of us with incredible complexity. Life is a process of understanding, accepting, embracing and celebrating the multiple layers of the unique person we are each created to be.