This blog post is the first of (hopefully) 31 I will write for the duration of July. I stumbled upon the Twitter account @Writersbootcmp aka Writers' Bootcamp, where a blogging topic is posted every day at 6pm and South African bloggers are encouraged to write something - to write ANYTHING - based on that topic, before tweeting your content to this account.
It's a great idea for anyone who loves to write, but especially for those - like me - who struggle for regular writing inspiration. So, here we go!
Even if you know me well, you don't know this.
I thought I'd just delve a little bit into why my personal blog exists in the first place. While calling yourself a 'blogger' either comes off as extremely cool or an extreme call for attention (depending on who you talk to), for me it represents much more.
My close friends are probably sick to death of hearing me say this, but Karl Ryan Furlong is an introvert. He enjoys greater amounts of peace, quiet and reflection than his more extroverted friends and colleagues (and this is the point at which he'll stop patronisingly referring to himself in the third person). The most noteworthy difference between the two personality types is that extroverts gain energy by spending time around other people; in the same situation, an introvert loses energy. The latter doesn't hate social interaction at all; he or she just needs less of it to reach a point of adequate stimulation.
For introverts, writing is truly a way of life and a space that feels safe and not invasive. One of the areas in which introverts battle is that we live in a world that demands constant, fast-paced communication. I'm talking about social gatherings and office brainstorms alike, where thinking on your feet and spewing out disjointed but animated thoughts are given much more weight than slowly processing and coming back with something well thought through, concise and usable.
As an introvert, I hate contributing an idea (whether formally or informally), if I feel it doesn't make sense as a whole. In fact, I feel like a complete nutcase if I do. Extroverts, and I do envy them for this, think more freely, verbalising almost everything as they go along - half doesn't make sense, but half will end up being gem-worthy. Neither means of thinking is wrong, they're just vastly different. Because while the introvert is 'processing' one idea in detail, the extroverts in the room have already motored along to the next one hundred topics. This makes verbal communication (in groups) much trickier for me, which brings me to why I say writing is a way of life.
Writing gives me the time to arrange my thoughts clearly, without mumbling through them when rushed. The confidence that's lacking in a noisy face-to-face scenario is all there in the email or letter I've written.
Often, writing about even the trivial stuff leaves me feeling wide awake, alert and full of energy. It's that satisfying to be able to say exactly what I want to say, when I want to say it, without interruption. So as much as the world we live in always seems to have the volume knob turned up 30% higher than I would like it to be, that world also means I have access to Blogger, or Wordpress, or Facebook notes - all places where I and I'm sure many others feel well and truly at ease.
Whether ten or a thousand people choose to engage with something I've written isn't really the point (okay, so ten thousand would be rather fantastic), because like everyone else, self-expression is crucial. Being heard is crucial, in whatever form you're being heard. Being called out on your way of thinking is also important, and I have had some of the most intense, personal and challenging one-on-one conversations based on something I've put into words.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I have trucked along with this silly little blog. To the next 30, let's do this!
Showing posts with label personalities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personalities. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 July 2014
Sunday, 17 March 2013
Quiet: the power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking
I recently read a deeply insightful book - which shares its name with the title of this blog post - and as you now already know, it explores the sometimes obvious and sometimes obscure differences between extroversion and introversion.
The book makes several eye-opening points about how the world we live in today values (and in many cases heaps unnecessary praise upon) the extrovert ideal. For those of us who prefer life not be be permanently lived in the fast lane, here are a few excerpts from a book that I found really insightful reading:
"Today we make room for a remarkably narrow range of personality styles. We're told that to be great is to be bold, to be happy is to be sociable. We see ourselves as a nation of extroverts - which means that we've lost sight of who we really are. Depending on which study you consult, one third to one half of Americans are introverts - in other words, one out of every two or three people you know. (given that the United States is among the most extrovert of nations, the number must be at least as high in other parts of the world.)
If you're not an introvert yourself, you are surely raising, managing, married to, or coupled with one. If these statistics surprise you, that's probably because so many people pretend to be extroverts. Closet introverts pass undetected on playgrounds, in high school locker rooms, and in the corridors of corporate America. Some fool even themselves, until some life event - a layoff, an empty nest, an inheritance that frees them to spend time as they like - jolts them into taking stick of their true natures. You have only to raise the subject of this book with your friends and acquaintances to find that the most unlikely people consider themselves introverts.
We live with a value system that I call the Extrovert Ideal - the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha, and comfortable in the spotlight. The archetypal extrovert prefers action to contemplation, risk-taking to heed-taking, certainty to doubt. He favours quick decisions, even at the risk of being wrong. She works well in teams and socializes in groups. We like to think that we value individuality, but all too often we admire one type of individual - the kind who's comfortable "putting himself out there." Sure, we allow technologically gifted loners who launch companies in garages to have any personality they please, but they are exceptions, not the rule, and our tolerance extends mainly to those who get fabulously wealthy or hold the promise of doing so.
Introversion - along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness and shyness - is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between disappointment and a pathology.
The Extrovert Ideal has been documented in many studies, though this research has never been grouped under a single name. Talkative people, for example, are rated as smarter, better-looking, more interesting, and more desirable as friends. Velocity of speech counts as well as volume: we rank fast talkers as more competent and likable than slow ones. The same dynamics apply in groups, where research shows that the voluble are considered smarter that the reticent - even though there's zero correlation between the gift of gab and good ideas.
Yet, as Quiet will explore, many of the most important institutions of contemporary life are designed for those who enjoy group projects and high levels of stimulation... As adults, many of us work for organizations that insist we work in teams, in offices without walls, for supervisors who value "people skills" above all. To advance our careers, we're expected to promote ourselves unabashedly.
If you're an introvert, you also know that the bias against quiet can cause deep psychic pain. As a child you might have overheard your parents apologize for your shyness... or at school you might have been prodded to "come out of your shell" - that noxious expression which fails to appreciate that some animals naturally carry shelter everywhere they go, and that some humans are just the same.
Now that you're an adult, you might still feel a pang of guilt when you decline a dinner invitation in favour of a good book. Or maybe you like to eat alone in restaurants and could do without the pitying looks from fellow diners. Or you're told that you're "in your head too much," a phrase that's often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. Of course, there's another word for such people: thinkers. I have seen firsthand how difficult it is for introverts to take stock of their own talents, and how powerful it is when finally they do.
Introverts feel "just right" with less stimulation, as when they sip wine with a close friend, solve a crossword puzzle, or read a book. Extroverts enjoy the extra bang that comes from activities like meeting new people, skiing slippery slopes, and cranking up the stereo.
Introverts, in contrast, may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pyjamas. They prefer to devote their social energies to close friends, colleagues, and family. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk, but enjoy deep discussions."
These excerpts are from the book Quiet: the power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking, by Susan Cain
The book makes several eye-opening points about how the world we live in today values (and in many cases heaps unnecessary praise upon) the extrovert ideal. For those of us who prefer life not be be permanently lived in the fast lane, here are a few excerpts from a book that I found really insightful reading:
"Today we make room for a remarkably narrow range of personality styles. We're told that to be great is to be bold, to be happy is to be sociable. We see ourselves as a nation of extroverts - which means that we've lost sight of who we really are. Depending on which study you consult, one third to one half of Americans are introverts - in other words, one out of every two or three people you know. (given that the United States is among the most extrovert of nations, the number must be at least as high in other parts of the world.)
If you're not an introvert yourself, you are surely raising, managing, married to, or coupled with one. If these statistics surprise you, that's probably because so many people pretend to be extroverts. Closet introverts pass undetected on playgrounds, in high school locker rooms, and in the corridors of corporate America. Some fool even themselves, until some life event - a layoff, an empty nest, an inheritance that frees them to spend time as they like - jolts them into taking stick of their true natures. You have only to raise the subject of this book with your friends and acquaintances to find that the most unlikely people consider themselves introverts.
We live with a value system that I call the Extrovert Ideal - the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha, and comfortable in the spotlight. The archetypal extrovert prefers action to contemplation, risk-taking to heed-taking, certainty to doubt. He favours quick decisions, even at the risk of being wrong. She works well in teams and socializes in groups. We like to think that we value individuality, but all too often we admire one type of individual - the kind who's comfortable "putting himself out there." Sure, we allow technologically gifted loners who launch companies in garages to have any personality they please, but they are exceptions, not the rule, and our tolerance extends mainly to those who get fabulously wealthy or hold the promise of doing so.
Introversion - along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness and shyness - is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between disappointment and a pathology.
The Extrovert Ideal has been documented in many studies, though this research has never been grouped under a single name. Talkative people, for example, are rated as smarter, better-looking, more interesting, and more desirable as friends. Velocity of speech counts as well as volume: we rank fast talkers as more competent and likable than slow ones. The same dynamics apply in groups, where research shows that the voluble are considered smarter that the reticent - even though there's zero correlation between the gift of gab and good ideas.
Yet, as Quiet will explore, many of the most important institutions of contemporary life are designed for those who enjoy group projects and high levels of stimulation... As adults, many of us work for organizations that insist we work in teams, in offices without walls, for supervisors who value "people skills" above all. To advance our careers, we're expected to promote ourselves unabashedly.
If you're an introvert, you also know that the bias against quiet can cause deep psychic pain. As a child you might have overheard your parents apologize for your shyness... or at school you might have been prodded to "come out of your shell" - that noxious expression which fails to appreciate that some animals naturally carry shelter everywhere they go, and that some humans are just the same.
Now that you're an adult, you might still feel a pang of guilt when you decline a dinner invitation in favour of a good book. Or maybe you like to eat alone in restaurants and could do without the pitying looks from fellow diners. Or you're told that you're "in your head too much," a phrase that's often deployed against the quiet and cerebral. Of course, there's another word for such people: thinkers. I have seen firsthand how difficult it is for introverts to take stock of their own talents, and how powerful it is when finally they do.
Introverts feel "just right" with less stimulation, as when they sip wine with a close friend, solve a crossword puzzle, or read a book. Extroverts enjoy the extra bang that comes from activities like meeting new people, skiing slippery slopes, and cranking up the stereo.
Introverts, in contrast, may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pyjamas. They prefer to devote their social energies to close friends, colleagues, and family. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk, but enjoy deep discussions."
These excerpts are from the book Quiet: the power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking, by Susan Cain
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