Dear Introverted Me,
My favorite definition between an introvert and an extrovert is that an introvert has a big internal world and an extravert has a big external world.
Dear introverted me,
Today I will write our interview. We have lived almost 40 years together and yet in true introverted manner I have never given you the spotlight or the microphone. I have never recorded our interviews. Today, we shall talk.
I have been hearing your voice more and more. Maybe I have always been hearing your voice but have only recently told you that it was ok to talk.
I have a big internal world and I want to record the quieter voice of my introverted self. The self that shines the light and life on my world.
I often feel separate from the external world. It is often confusing, too busy and too loud. Everyone seems to be fighting for validation and attention. I have spent so much of my time and self trying to align my internal world with the ever changing external one. I have exhausted myself and often am left feeling that my internal world was not made for this external one. Yet the longer I walk this journey of life, the more I am seeing tidbits of my internal world through out the external world around me, or more often, in the internal world of another.
My world within is my favorite place to be.
It is where I go to be the sky, as the temperamental weathers of life pass over and through, causing death and life amongst the seasons of my days. It is where I feel at home.
Covering all the walls and tinting all the incoming images, creativity seems to be the fragrance of my soul. Creativity explodes when stimulated by nature or humor, imagination or emotion. Art becomes the spiritual sanctuaries for my external self to connect with my internal one. Often compelled without rhyme or reason I am driven to create. To contribute to the raw and endless galleries on walls and in the shadows of trees.
Growth howls through the corridors always beckoning me to step forward. To walk through this life as a journey and stepping back into safety is for cowards. I was made to bloom, to stretch and expand, I was made to grow. My internal world is full of new and old blooms, full of struggles and triumphs, challenges and expansions. Much like my art, I am compelled to grow.
Of all the foods I devour my favorite is curiosity. It awakens my palet, it rumbles my appetite. I want to know about the external world, I want to know about my internal world too. As curiosity lures me into the fridges of life, I find my appetite is appeased only to become ravenously hungry with each new bite of satisfaction. It is a hunger I hope to never lose in this life.
My head is adorned with the hat of philosophy. Never told to get my head out of the clouds but more often told to get my thoughts out of the depths. Clothed in the garments of time, showing their wear and tear, long past the stages of newness, the comfort of ease is nearing her close as the signs of disintegration sets in. We saunter about just fine as our hat keeps us crowned with every thought and action motivated by philosophy. Why do we do this? Why are we here? What is our meaning? How can we improve?
My attire is temporary, everyone’s is.
Shoed in empathy, sometimes heavy boots that leaves me laden down with the hurts and emotions of others. Yet more often allowing me to slip into the shoes of another, despite having not walked their steps I can feel the tread of their soul and am humbled.
Music, art, words and dance are my waterfalls, my swimming pools on the ever increasing warm days. They are my life vests amongst the storms, they are my roots that connect my galaxies to this earth.
My world within is my favorite place to be. It is where I go to be the sky, as the temperamental weathers of life pass over and through, causing death and life amongst the seasons of my days. It is where I feel at home.
Well I don’t know how to close out this interview but there are other papers rattling around my head. I am glad that we recorded this interview today and will hopefully do another one again.
Thanks for sharing a bit of our world.
Me
Covering all the walls and tinting all the incoming images, creativity seems to be the fragrance of my soul. Creativity explodes when stimulated by nature or humor, imagination or emotion. Art becomes the spiritual sanctuaries for my external self to connect with my internal one. Often compelled without rhyme or reason I am driven to create. To contribute to the raw and endless galleries on walls and in the shadows of trees.
Growth howls through the corridors always beckoning me to step forward. To walk through this life as a journey and stepping back into safety is for cowards. I was made to bloom, to stretch and expand, I was made to grow. My internal world is full of new and old blooms, full of struggles and triumphs, challenges and expansions. Much like my art, I am compelled to grow.
Of all the foods I devour my favorite is curiosity. It awakens my palet, it rumbles my appetite. I want to know about the external world, I want to know about my internal world too. As curiosity lures me into the fridges of life, I find my appetite is appeased only to become ravenously hungry with each new bite of satisfaction. It is a hunger I hope to never lose in this life.
My head is adorned with the hat of philosophy. Never told to get my head out of the clouds but more often told to get my thoughts out of the depths. Clothed in the garments of time, showing their wear and tear, long past the stages of newness, the comfort of ease is nearing her close as the signs of disintegration sets in. We saunter about just fine as our hat keeps us crowned with every thought and action motivated by philosophy. Why do we do this? Why are we here? What is our meaning? How can we improve?
My attire is temporary, everyone’s is.
Shoed in empathy, sometimes heavy boots that leaves me laden down with the hurts and emotions of others. Yet more often allowing me to slip into the shoes of another, despite having not walked their steps I can feel the tread of their soul and am humbled.
Music, art, words and dance are my waterfalls, my swimming pools on the ever increasing warm days. They are my life vests amongst the storms, they are my roots that connect my galaxies to this earth.
My world within is my favorite place to be. It is where I go to be the sky, as the temperamental weathers of life pass over and through, causing death and life amongst the seasons of my days. It is where I feel at home.
Well I don’t know how to close out this interview but there are other papers rattling around my head. I am glad that we recorded this interview today and will hopefully do another one again.
Thanks for sharing a bit of our world.
Me
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