A professional procrastinator, a fail multitasker, or acute introvert?

I do everything to procrastinate, especially for the things I consider as important to me. I tend to put these supposed to be important things aside, for later on, for a better time, a quieter time, time when I get to dedicate all my attention to whatever the important thing is, undivided.

Honestly, I should've known better.
Such time is rare, hardly ever easily presented before me, and when it does, I usually manage to find a way to distract myself and doing something else instead.

No question about the importance because I know how important these things are for me. And no questions about whether I'm procrastinating because I am. I am one of those successful procrastinators. Always been one. The question is why.

Putting off something that I don't like doing is no mystery. I'd procrastinate simply because I don't want to do it. But procrastinating something I like doing and consider important, makes me wonder.

I finally found out that all these important things I tend to procrastinate, I usually get them done in the unlikeliest times. The realization came down on me one day during a family gathering, when there were about fifteen people in the room, including children running around, with all the people talking. I remember I went to my room to get my drawing book, and then start drawing in the middle of the conversation around me. It was one of the things that I've been planning to do, been wanting to do, for weeks, but was kept put off because 'I couldn't find the right time to do it'. There's always some other works to do, some other house chores waiting, some phone calls to make, emails to send, and when I finally got a break and some alone time, there would be a book to read, or a daydreaming to do.

I noticed that this also happens to my plan to write (which usually was done while I'm baking a cake, or during lunch break at the office, instead of a quiet time before I sleep at night). The same thing happens to the stack of article links piled up in my evernote, saved for later to read. The plan is to read the articles before sleeping. I imagined it would be really nice to sit on my bed with my laptop, reading all the articles in silence.

The reality is, I usually finished reading most of them while I'm on the train on my way to the office. Yes, inside the crowded train, among the chaotic rush of people jammed into the confined space, swaying from time to time, leaning involuntarily to other people's shoulders or armpits because there simply is no room left to complain.

I started to think that this is probably something to do with my inability to actually face myself.

I enjoy being alone, being with my own company. But writing, and drawing, is an activity that expose us to ourselves. Or the other way round. The point is, these activities will lead you to find whatever it is hidden under the lid of your mind, and sometimes, your heart.

While I always feel the presence of other people around me when I'm writing or drawing as an intrusion to my privacy (this is me being too territorial), I started to notice that their presence ease the tension you cannot avoid to occur during the encounter with whatever it is hidden under the lid of your mind and heart. The presence of other people distract you from the real focus.

I don't know if it's a good thing though. Because, well, you face what you need to face and you just have to do it from time to time. You cannot runaway or hide forever, or pretending to forget about the things that you want to do. Things that you know you really really want to do, things that you cannot get your mind off of them no matter how hard you try avoiding them.

Or maybe I'm just too good at multitasking that I cannot help doing it whenever I get a chance to.
(*sounds very unlikely)

Either that, or I simply don't like people (as some people accused me of doing). So it's actually a good tactic to be present during any kind of gathering, without actually being present.

I don't think I'm that evil though.

So that leaves me with a question hanging: am I actually a professional procrastinator, a fail multitasker, or an acute introvert?



2.28 am, Tuesday early in the morning.
Such a deep, life changing question to ask in such an interesting hours. 

Excuses for no excuses

It's been quite some time since the last time I visit my own blog. I guess I'm just not made for commitment in the first place. I can't even commit to my own life (oh yes, bitter mood is on).

No excuses for the commitment, I'm just that lousy. But I think it's also a good thing to settle with just short posts, considering my mind is actually still relentless as ever, and with such minimum release it might lead to mental explosion (is there even such a thing?) like, I guess, the one I'm currently having right now. My tongue is practically a flying dagger ready to tear at anyone insensitive enough to read the sign.

My former boss used to tell me that my subconscious is just too intense, that's why every little thing out of order, even as small as some iseng colleagues shaking my chair playfully while passing next to my desk would shock me to the point where it takes me a few seconds to return to the real world, and that by the time I do, I've completely forgot everything I was doing previously.

I don't think that's the problem now. I think it's just solitude deprived at its worst.

Life happens, life grows, and life doesn't bother to ask whether I'm ready or not. I guess that's what happened.

My workload is getting crazier, the stake is getting higher, it's rainy season the traffic is getting more impossible for everyone to commute in less than 2 hours (unless, of course, they don't commute), longer hours on the street, shorter quality hours at home, brain's getting even wearier.

Again, no excuses. I'm completely aware of that. And I've been trying to accept the fact that this is just the life I have to go through for now, so yeah, personal dreams shoved into the closet for now. And turns out that it doesn't do me good.

I need to stick to short posts if that's all that I can make for now. Because making a decent, thoroughly thought posts takes time and energy, which I'm currently lack of. And not letting is also counterproductive. Add the solitude deprived and here I am now, a collection of all forms of rage, ready to blow up with even the smallest ignition.

I just need to settle with what little I can do right now.

My Mind

I planned to work, but then I opened my blogger account. There were also days when I planned to draw or write, but then stuck with the office email and started to develop a document, happily.

Sometimes I don't understand the way my mind works. It seems like it has a life of its own.

Another solitude deprived moment

One of those days when everything is just too much; the works, the people, the emotion, the dreams. I needed to grab a pencil and a paper and find a quiet corner. But I couldn't

I just realized that I can't draw anything or write anything when there's someone around, even if it's my own Mom reading or watching TV on the other room. I found out that I need to be alone when doing these things that I consider as releasing my emotional excess. Alone as in no one around me to realize what I'm doing. This is very important since what I'm doing (when drawing or writing) is basically pouring out my real self on to the paper and it's a very private moment for me that I find it irritating when someone finds out.

It's not that I have that much insecurity, but I just don't like it when people see too much of me.

At the office it's much easier. I could just draw whenever I have spare time, on my desk, not minding people walking back and forth around me. I've been thinking about it and wondering why. I guess perhaps it's because I know no one there really cares what I'm doing. Even if they found me drawing something they probably just think that I'm bored with the work and try to find distraction. 

At home, everything is more personal. And it really frustrates me how I can't do anything when I'm in the just right environment to do it.

These are some of the mandalas  I drew when I'm at the office.

Is it an excuse?

I remember writing about INFJ last year, having finally realized for the first time what it means.


Life went on and it didn't necessarily get any easier for me as an INFJ. The world don't just agree with you when you said you'd be better left alone. But the knowledge did help me in reassuring myself that the world can talk and say what they like and I can just keep on walking.


Back then, I figured that I had read all the materials available in the internet, and I think what would be enough. I don't want to drown myself too much into the subject for fear that I might be trapped in making it as an excuse for whatever unpleasant things I need to avoid in my life.


With the just right amount of knowledge in the subject, I tried to identify a pattern and make some adjustments, and yes, I'm lucky enough to be in a workplace where that is possible, might not be able to cover everything, but enough to help me survive my weekdays with  little harm.


Time went on and many things happened, including Susan Cain and her TED talk that shed new light on the topic. I read her book Quiet and eagerly sharing the ideas to my friends and colleagues, hoping that they finally understand that there is nothing wrong with people who are quiet, and that it is scientifically proven.


Recently a friend told me that 'introverts' might want to consider a few things that can be done to fight the introversion that seems to be hampering them from moving ahead in the world. That's when I realized that scientific data is not enough to make people understand that introversion is not a defect. To these people, your good intention in sharing information about introversion might be easily seen as making excuses or justification for your defects.


But you know what?


Just like any other things about yourself that you want to change;  you might want to color your hair, or trim your teeth, or shape your eyebrow. You can change some things, and you just have to accept or make peace with some others. Introverts need to adjust to get along with their environment. Just as much as everyone else in the world need to adjust to their surrounding, no matter what their personality are.


Adjustment is one thing that everyone needs to do in order to live in harmony. But when you need to fight it, then it is a defect. How can you fight something that you are born with? Or to be exact, why should you? Why should you fight something just because it makes you different from the majority of the people? 


I decided now that I'm not going to talk about introversion unless someone asks.


Introverts might easily trapped in making their introversion as an excuse. Just as much as extroverts easily accusing them of doing it.


I might be wrong, though.

conversation #3 - dino and normal people

A: I wonder why people love to do things together. Having lunch together. Going to see a movie together. Watching a show together. I'd prefer to go alone. I don't really like being in herd, you know. Makes me feel like dinosaur.
D: You know, when people talking about herd, they usually refer to sheep. Not dino.
A: Dinos live in herd.
D: I know. But most people don't talk about Dino in their casual conversation.
A: Oh, okay...


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


D: Why are we talking about animals now?
A: I don't know. Maybe, because we're animals too?
D: Yeah. Humans are animals too.
A: So it's just like gossiping, you know. Talking about the species next door.
D: You're right. Just like gossiping.

conversations

It never ceased to amaze me how some of my close friends actually play along with me in my sometimes-not-so-sophisticated analogy.




#1
D: You should say hi, you know
A: I know. But how? I've forgot how to say hi 
D: Well just say it!
A: I can't. You see, if saying hi requires some kind of a program, then I don't have the program.
    The application won't run because the program has not been installed yet. It has been
    looooong deleted from my system.
D: I think you actually have the program. But there's just too many firewalls.
A: Haha. Firewalls. Rite.
D: You need to deactivate all the firewalls. Come on...
A: *sigh* I know...But then there's this antivirus...
D: Antivirus. That too.
A: Yeah.
D: You need to deactivate them too.
A: Yeah, I need to upgrade them to the more updated version, the one that can recognize new
     program not as virus.


#2
D: It's the wall you've built.
A: I know.
D: Well actually everyone has their own walls, only in different forms.
A: But I realize now that mine's too thick
D: Yeah. Would require hard work to bring it down.
A: I feel sorry for anyone who's trying to bring it down. Well, I'd love to break it down. I'd love to
     have someone breaking it down, because I know I wouldn't be able to do it alone. I'm
     actually open for partnership, you know. A partnership in a construction work, to break down
     walls.
D: Ok, go find a partner then. Make an announcement. Go bid for one.
A: Open a tender. 
D: Open a tender. 
A: *sigh*

The time I'm running out of

So here's practically how my day goes everyday:


I'd commute to the office every morning with train. In the train, I'd plug my ears with earphone and occupy my mind by reading my Google reader or catching up with latest news of the day through Twitter. While listening to the songs in my ear and reading all the news and articles, I'd start imagining myself getting off the train, chasing for a bus, sitting in there, getting off of it, walking to the building where my office is located, and I'd start thinking of whether I'd drink tea or coffee this morning, I'd start recollecting the taste of each, considering which would be the most proper for that morning. Sometimes, the train of thought would be cut off for a brief moment with the realization of the sight of trees running backwards or the roof of the houses that we're passing. For that brief moment I'd think, it's not the best sight in the world but it's lovely anyway, never fails to brighten my day. And then the train of thought resume with more and more tasks and plans for the day. 


When sitting on the bus, though it had been carefully pictured in my mind earlier that I'd keep listening to the songs played in my iPod along with some interventions from the street singers creating a nonsense unintelligible sounds in my ears, I'd do something else too. I'd pondering on whether to read a book or continue checking up  Twitter, which I usually end up doing both, interchangeably.


I'd watch the cars and motorcycles passing by next to me, and think maybe I'd better stop multitasking and just enjoy the sight for a while. I never really give much thought about why the sight of traffic can be something to be enjoy. While watching the busy traffic, my mind would start wandering around the office, at my cubicle to be precise. I'd thinking about turning the computer on, entering password, and while waiting for the computer to log on I think I'd go to the toilet to clean myself up, going to the office's pantry, searching for my mug in the cupboard, making myself a cup of coffee, and walked back to my desk with the computer already logged on.


Isn't it amazing that by the time I am there, sitting at my desk with the computer already logged on and ready to start the work, I'd think of  how this day would end. I'd type words and numbers, working on the report or whatever it is I'm working on, while thinking of what to read on my way home. I'd look outside the window and find a beautiful sight of drizzling rain and would start taking pictures, editing it, and posting it on Streamzoo. All the while thinking of drawing the pictures, wondering whether to just using MyPaint or coloring pencils. 


By the time I got on the bus for a two-hours trip going home, I don't only read what I have sort of planned earlier back in the office, but I also busy multitasking between checking my inbox, reading at least two pages of a book, and staring at the traffic outside.


I'm actually pretty busy aren't I? :D


Sometimes at such moment I'd think, I have to choose to do only one of these or I'd get home dead tired. And actually, I was tired already. So I'd usually end up plastering my face to the window, watching the traffic, or staring at the sky if it's not dark yet. It felt so relieving, actually. To sit still in silence, doing nothing, thinking of nothing, only silence occupy your head.  But it's hard to keep though. My mind has this tendency to think and over think everything and it's really difficult to tell it to be quiet. During the noisy conversation, I'd think of writing them down. It's been a good therapy for me actually. Only sometimes, I'd get too far by thinking of the opening sentences, what to focus, what to highlight, any pictures I could use, or perhaps I'd just draw something.


And believe me, when I finally draw something, while moving the pencil on my sketch book, my mind would wander around other things like what to draw after this, what about the previous idea I had in mind, when will I have time to draw them, should I buy another set of coloring pencils so I wouldn't have to use my daughters', and creating a plan for the upcoming weekend where I'd have my quiet time drawing. Or perhaps going to a book store to buy some stationery. Speaking of which, what about the books in my wish list. Or even, the books I haven't finished reading. And I'd start to mentally groan in frustration, oh so many things I want to do yet so little time. 


Thinking about it, actually I have managed to crammed quite a lot of things in my time. Aside from working nine to five, I still manage to read books and articles in my Google reader, update my blog, drawing, editing some photos, updating my Deviantart and Flickr, catching up with friends once in a while through Twitter and Facebook, having a conversation during dinner with my Mom and my daughter, and quite enough sleep. 


But why do I keep feeling like I don't have enough time? 


I always recognize the feeling of a meltdown. It usually happens when I don't have enough time with myself. Being an introvert, I now know that I was never made for a noisy life, and even if I have to live one, I know I'd have to set at least two hours every day to be alone to recharge, to release all the tensions that were built during the eight hours of interaction with other people. If I don't set aside some time for myself, I'd have the meltdown phase, and it could be very nasty. 


Now I've managed to squeeze a little time here and there to do things I want. But something is missing. Something is lacking. Something that feels clearer when it's late at night, when all the world is sleeping, and I'm close to sleeping either that I never really find out what is it because I'd fall asleep not long after, physically tired and mentally exhausted for the reason I don't understand. I have time to do things I like. Why should I feel exhausted?


Only recently I realized, that I don't set quite enough time to be with myself. I've been cramming my usual quiet time with too many activities. And while I think that might be a good thing, I have to question my motive as well. I think it started to become a problem when I start setting target like reading at least two pages of a book, drawing at least one in a week, posting at least three photos in a day, and so on. 


While target is important, and I know that I have to keep at least one blog post per day for the sake of keep writing and keep my sanity intact, I might have been violating the purpose of quiet time by cramming it with not only too many things, but also target to be accomplished. If my daily life at work has already full of targets and deadlines, perhaps I should not use the same principles with my quiet time. I might have violated the quiet time by doing things I like with the wrong spirit behind it. 


Things you like, they should be done with love, with the right amount of caring and gentleness, and less ambitions. I should stop filling up my sketch book every week and learn to let go, leave a sketch half finished when I feel exhausted, and visit it again next week. I have to learn to move on with another topic or another draft instead of forcing myself to struggle with one draft that is so difficult to finish. I now think that the reason it gets that difficult to finish is perhaps because my heart was not there, not at that time. 


Committing to finish the work is one thing. But I need to learn to choose. I can't do everything all at once. Well, maybe I can, but I'd loose the present time; the time I'm  having but ignoring by being too busy thinking and planning about the next time. The present time I'd failed to enjoy for having too focus on the result. I'd missed the joyful times feeling the pencil moving on the paper, watching the color filling up the white space inches by inches together with the movement of my hands. I'd missed the joyful times of playing with ideas, the process of unveiling thoughts and untying them into a form of sentences, the excitement of swimming with words, stringing them up one by one into sentences, watching my thoughts turning itself into a previously unknown form as the sentences progress into paragraphs.


I've read this article about a relentless mind and what to do with it. I think that's just what I've been having all this time. 


I was going home from work yesterday, feeling slightly heavy on my head and still tired of an emotional breakdown two days earlier. The commuter bus has high windows so the sights are limited to tree tops and clouds in the sky. I stared blankly at the sky at first, mind wandering to the news and articles I was planning to read but failed to because exhaustion took over me. Then the sight of the clouds rolled up, forming some kind of white soft tower in the sky started to get into me. I was amazed by how grand the sky is, how beautiful the clouds are, and how little yet so blessed I am to be sitting witnessing this miracle of the universe. I felt so happy and grateful, so much that I keep smiling even when I had to walk under the rain that suddenly pouring. 


It was one of my blissful quiet moments and actually, it's not that difficult to find. If only I let myself to be mindful, emptying my mind from all the thoughts of the next time, let quietness takes over, fully absorbing all the sights and the sounds around me in precious silence, wholeheartedly experiencing the now.

When all is fail, write

At least that's how it is with me. 


Writing has always been the best way for me to channel my restlessness. I'm one of those people with busy brain that never stops talking and processing thoughts, digging deeper and deeper into things, connecting and retrieving information and thoughts, and turning it over and over again inside the skull of my head. Sometimes, the thought it's playing with is not that important, often times, it's absolutely not important at all. But it doesn't seem to mind that I actually question my brain's judgment on making priorities. 


It's really tiring to hear all the talking inside my head. And for years I've been unconsciously developing a mechanism to shut them up by putting them down on paper (and by paper here I also mean a blank white page on computer screen_kind of paper look alike). I don't always indulge it though. Most of the time, I ignore the talking until they turn into some kind of a scream, or a cry. Then I'd force myself to sit still, face the blank page, and deal with them with true honesty that will only come out through writing.


It's never an easy process. The waiting phase, the phase where the thoughts start transforming themselves from thoughts to screaming thoughts, or crying thoughts, is painful. The heavy feeling in my chest, the restlessness, the constant looking back or looking aside diverting me from whatever it is I'm trying to do, whatever it is but writing, is annoying. After days, I'd feel incoherent and unable to focus. I'd spend almost thirty minutes just to write a simple email to a colleague. It's annoying the way they keep diverting your attention from the current moment you're in and pulling you back to somewhere, some time, where the thoughts dwell. 


What strikes me the most is, actually, how I never learn that it's a battle I'd never win.


I've always known it that those busy thoughts are not something I can ignore. In fact, they are actually something I have to follow and indulge, if I want to be at peace with myself. But I keep ignoring them, turning away from them, throwing promises that I'd visit them at proper times, proper occasion, proper mood, proper place. Hence my never ending restlessness.


In these past few days, I've been drowning with the feeling, unable to settle them down, but also failed to make myself to sit and disentangle the knotted thoughts inside my head. I've been refusing to say yes to them. I imagined myself, slightly upset, telling them to grow up and stop pestering me and solve their own problems, stop being so demanding because I have another life to tend to so they cannot expect me to always be there all ears and ready with pen and paper whenever they need me, and for God sake, they really need to shut up for a while and be quiet, how would they think I'd be able to understand what they said if they keep talking and talking, and really, haven't they heard about priority? 


As usual, feeling totally exhausted as a result of constant denial, I finally sit and wrote. I wrote, because I've tried reading, I've tried browsing for articles, listening to songs, watching TV, working, drinking coffee, daydreaming, staring at the rain, even sleeping. All failed. I have to admit that the only way I could calm them down is by writing them down. And bear the consequences of possible another spark of thoughts appearing along the way, ready to bloom into another screaming thoughts within the next few days, creating another restlessness within me, stuffing my chest until I finally give up and turn around and face them. And write again. 

incoherent

I went to work this morning with more than half of my heart was still left at home. I think I’ve left them somewhere close with my sketchbook and coloring pencils, near the unfinished drawing I started last night.

I try to calm down and prepare myself for the one and a half hour trip getting to the office. I put on my earphone, playing Putumayo playlist, hoping to sooth the restlessness in me. I sat myself at the last row in the bus, right next to a window. It’s my favorite place because it shields me from the chaos inside the too crowded bus. I turned my iPod volume to the max, and opened a book. I was distracted, but not that much to help me completely forget the restlessness.  After a while I finally gave up and closed the book, thinking that perhaps this is one of those moments where it’s better to be quiet and still, to let the busy brain stop talking for a while and let silence occupy your head.

At times like this, I cannot help but wonder. Have I been ungrateful with the life I’m having now? I ask myself the question over and over again while watching, from the window of the rusty bus, a number of street vendors running on the street, trying to get into the moving buses. In front of me was an old man I usually see wandering about at the train station piggybacking his adolescent retarded son. While passing the intersection, I caught a glimpse of a street singer standing at the pavement, watching the buses go by, looking disappointed. It seems they were also trying to get into the bus but failed to cross the street, hampered by a bunch of motorcycles.

I know and I’m sure that I’m far from being ungrateful. I’m more than glad that I have a place every day to go to work for. And every day I pray for those people I meet on the street, wishing a better life for them. But this restlessness, these voices calling from somewhere inside of me, is not something I can ignore. It’s getting more and more unbearable every day. It’s something I know I’d have to follow.

I wrote this post once I got the the office, still having no clear idea on how to deal with it. 

So dear people, sorry for giving you more clouds :)

I need a help here.

Misunderstood

Dear world,

This is one of those moments when punching a solid wall seems to be an appropriate, justified action, for the sake of sanity.

I can almost see myself listing down a few things as justifications before walking to the nearest wall here inside my house and land a punch wholeheartedly to it. Bruised knuckles are expected. But for a moment it felt like worth it. All the reasons I'd listed down, seemed to deserve the bruised knuckles. Just like the innocent walls deserve a punch, simply for standing there solid, calm and composed, unmoved by the struggling I'm having right in front of their faces. 

If, walls ever have faces.

The thing is, they don't. And that negates all the reasons I was about to list down earlier. And finally cancelled it because, well simply, because walls are innocent.

Dear world,

I never wish I'm not who I am now. I've learned to love being who I truly am, accepting the fact that I might have to live the rest of my life being misunderstood by people around me. 

To those who don't, I really thank you all. And I'm really grateful to God for letting me to have such people like you around me, though there aren't many of you out there.

To those who do, I don't blame you. You are just as innocent as the walls. You cannot be guilty for standing there solid and confident, believing what you believe and seeing the world through your eyes. It's your eyes anyway. You cannot possibly guilty either for being ignorant to the fact that there are other humankind seeing the world through different eyes. The same world, just through different eyes. Or, to be more precise, different from yours. 

Dear world, 

I know it's never about who's to blame. And I never wish for the world to be different. 

I just wish that it wouldn't hurt so much to be misunderstood.

the moral of the story?

I was having a really bad day at the office yesterday. Not that it's the first time. Looking back, that has always been the case with my job for the past six years: deadlines, crazy deadlines, friendly deadlines, I-understand-your-workload-but-sorry-what-else-can-I-do deadlines, chaotic environment filled with tension, people hurrying by to catch up with whatever it is running ahead of them, trying to get ahead of everything.


That was my introvert, HSP self talking.  


There are times when my less than 1% extrovert self (yes, I still believe that I actually have this, the test system just failed to recognize it) coming out and decided to take the front line, and see things rather differently. That it has always been a good place to work. That it's actually the best place to grow, full of challenges and experiences of new things you might never heard of before. That it's actually a place that will boost your confidence by taking you involved in big things, big scenarios, access to classified information, meeting important people. That those tensions, that chaotic environment, will be from time to time, filled with the sounds of people throwing jokes, laughter everywhere, victory scream over new business wins, friendly faces smiling over small unimportant things of our everyday lives.


I learn not to judge what my two sides of self see. They do have their positive and negative sides, though I am perfectly aware that I will always be gravitated to what I truly am: the introvert, the HSP, the unsent, the one that doesn't fit in. 


In some days, I can walk into the office calm, composed, collected, full of control of myself, ready to take any challenges offered by the day. In some days, I would walk in miserably, feeling frustrated by the chaotic environment, intimidated by deadlines that haven't even existed (yet). Yesterday was one of those days. With two deadlines waiting, the HSP in me that were on active mode started to panic. It wasn't a good condition and I collapsed, layer by layer, throughout the day. 


I finished my work for the day. Some of them. But I felt torn apart; my pride was torn apart, the idea I have about myself was challenged to the point of questioning my very existence in this world; am I just one of those passerby? One of the dying soul walking around the earth simply trying to make ends meet before the end comes and take away everything life is?


I spent the two hours going home trying to fight the tears I knew wouldn't be able to come out anyway. Just glistening moist at the corner of my eyes. My chest was full with emotions and my head was full with thoughts, both I have no control of. They were swirling, turning around, and I was so sure that I was going to cry last night. 


But then, not so far from my house, I saw some kids playing ular naga panjangnya. It's a traditional game I used to play when I was a little kid. I live in a suburban area, thus it is actually not uncommon to find children playing traditional games. But seeing those kids forming a row, singing and giggling while moving in a snake-like motion last night somehow brought a smile to my face. I suddenly thought of the days when I was one of those kids, singing and giggling under the moonlight. For a brief moment, I could feel the excitement I used to have while running around bare feet with my little friends in front of our houses. It was brief, but it was able to lift the heavy feeling off my chest. So last night, despite the intimidating day I had previously, I reached home with lighter heart and a smile on my face. And I'm really thankful for it.


I felt grateful how some things, are, comfortably, remains the same, especially within our heart. Now I see why.


So, dearest people, what is the moral of the story? I don't know. I don't think I've started this blog post with such a noble idea to give and moreover, to highlight a valuable lesson. At least not this time. I don't know what the moral of the story is, and I'm not planning to dig deeper into my brain to find out about it anytime soon. I started this blog post with a rather selfish intention, that is to let you know that I was having a bad day and unable to deal with it, I've let it ruining my day, but then I managed to came home smiling because of some kids playing ular naga panjangnya. 


Was it about finding the silver lining in the sky? Was it about having positive thought in your hardest times? Was it about finding peace within yourself? I don't know. 


I just remembered that when I opened the gate of my house last night, I sighed, and thinking, oh such an old wisdom, never fades in time. 


But what was it, really?




South Jakarta, in the middle of this chaotic place, while waiting for my research plan being reviewed

at my worst

I am at my worst.

The slightest touch makes me want to hit the person who touches me.


The casual conversation felt like the sound of independence day celebration and I want to shriek like a banshee so people can finally shut up. Or just talk silently.


The simplest question felt like an intimidating interrogation and I really have no answer to any of those. Even if it's just something in the line of have I had my lunch or what to eat for dinner.


I can't even make myself to reply the comments on my Facebook.


I am that horrible when I'm having a meltdown.


I can't meet people. I can't be around other people, even if it's my own family. I don't talk and I don't answer questions. Even if I would, it would be very difficult to do. It's as if my brain suddenly functions in different mode. The normal encoding-decoding process somehow just doesn't work. It suddenly uses different encrypting system and anything comes from external felt strange and unintelligible.



I've learned to accept this. I've grown to accept the periodical occurrence and adapt to it.

So here I am now sitting in my room, having a cup of green jasmine tea. One of the few things that can calm me down at times like this.


And as if in cue, I received an email from my boss asking me to do some work tonight, and an invitation from the people in my block for dinner. For certain reasons, both are things I couldn't and shouldn't turn down.








Hasn't it always been like this?
Just when you thought you couldn't go further with your emotional breakdown, such things appear out of nowhere and forcefully pulling you out from your comfortable solitary shell.


But, really, dear Universe, I've nothing against it.


Maybe I'm feeling like dragging myself out of the house right now. But this is nothing, because I'm still alive here, typing my heart out in my comfortable room with a cup of that lovely green tea, a full stomach, and sleepy eyes. 

An Introvert's Lexicon

The following is meant to be a humorous look at the world from an Introvert's point of view.

Click here for the complete explanation 

WORD	Extrovert's Definition	Introvert's Definition
Alone, adj.	Lonely.	Enjoying some peace and quiet.
Book, n.	1) Doorstop. 2) Paperweight.	1) Source of comfort. 2) Safe and inexpensive method of traveling, having adventures, and meeting interesting people.
Bored, adj.	Not frantically busy.	Stuck making small talk, and unable to escape politely.
Extrovert, n.	A nice, normal, sociable person. Never surprises you with anything weird.	A boisterous person who may be very nice, but who is somewhat exhausting to spend time with. Usually not too deep, but fun.
Free time, n.	A time when you do group activities. (See Introvert's Definition of work.)	A time when you read without interruption until you're in danger of going blind.
Friend, n.	Someone who makes sure that you're never alone.	Someone who understands that you're not rejecting them when you need to be alone.
Good manners, n.	Making sure people aren't left all by themselves. Filling in any silences in a conversation.	Not bothering people, unless it's necessary, or they approach you. (Sometimes you can bother people you know well, but make sure they aren't busy first.)
Home, n.	A place to invite everybody you know.	A place to hide from everybody you know.
Internet, n.	1) Another medium for advertising. 2) A place where geeks with no life hang out.	A way to meet other introverts. You don't have to go out, and writing allows you to think before just blurting something out.
Introvert, n.	One of those who like to read. Moody loners. Be careful not to tick them off; some of them are serial killers.	One who shows a perfectly natural restraint and caution when meeting new people. One who appreciates solitude. Often, one who enjoys reading and has a philosophical turn of mind.
Love, n.	Never having to do anything alone.	Being understood and appreciated.
Music, n.	Background noise.	Something with a tune and lyrics which may be moving and intelligent, or may be drivel.
Phone, n.	Lifeline to other people - your reason for living.	Necessary (?) evil, and yet another interruption. Occasionally useful, but mostly a nuisance.
Reading, v.	A chore that a teacher makes you do when you're a kid.	You have to do it in secret and pretend you don't really do it, or people think you're strange.
Shell, n.	Something you find on the beach.	What people relentlessly nag you to come out of. Why do you have to leave it, if you're happy there?
To go out, v.	Requires at least two people, and the more the better. Constant chatter, loud music, sports, crowds, and food consumption are all fun components of going out.	Can be done alone or with others. Enjoyable if there's some point to it; i.e., in order to see a band, a movie, a play, or perhaps to have a stimulating discussion with one or two close friends.
Work, n.	Having to read, write, listen, or concentrate on anything.	Being pestered every five minutes about something trivial, and not allowed to concentrate.

An Introvert Breaking the Habit

A few weeks ago I went to a fast breaking with a couple of close friends from when I was still in college. Some of them are friends that I still maintain contact with and we meet at least once a month just for coffee and small talks (that could last for five to six hours, cafe hopping). The others are friends that I haven't been in contact with since college, except for a text message on Idul Fitri, or occasional comments on Facebook.


Gathering and even reunion with old friends are commonly found during Ramadhan. I got many invitations, started from college friends to friends from junior high school, but I never attend it. I never really turn them down right there and then, simply because I didn't want to offend them. But I think, over time they finally learned that I just don't go to such gatherings. They keep sending me invitations, but I think they knew that I wouldn't show up.


Some of my friends start questioning my behavior, thinking that there is something wrong with me. Some speculated that it must be the painful break up that I had just undergone a few years ago. And they said, I really need to pull myself together and move on. Meet new people, have fun. Forget about the past.


That's what I thought I felt too.


About two months ago I accidentally found the MBTI personality test. I actually had taken the test a few years ago and I've already learned that I am an INFJ. But it wasn't until two months ago that I started digging on more materials on the subject. From what I found on the subject, I learned that there is nothing wrong with me. I finally could see that it's not about the break up and how I failed to overcome the trauma, or me being socially incapable. I have always been that kind of person since a long time ago. I just had the chance to realize it now. It was a relieve because I have always thought that I'm different from normal people and it needs to be fixed.. 


As an introvert, I constantly need a certain period of time alone. While others recharged through parties and gatherings, I recharged by having quiet time alone with myself. Sometimes I'd do some activities like writing or painting, sometimes I'd just do nothing, just sitting by the window and sip my coffee or tea. I just realized I did that a lot, even when I'm home during the weekend. I would sit in front of my computer in my room for hours, writing or doing some photo editing or digital painting. I'd let my daughter coming in and going out of the room to check on me once in a while, or when she feels like it, she'd sit next to me, occupying herself by drawing or creating stories. (Now that I think of it, I realized that I should be really grateful for having her as a daughter. She's seven years old, yet she seems to understand that there are times that I just don't want to be disturbed. She'd smile and shake her head while looking at me, saying, 'Bun, you forget everything once you start sitting there and painting').


I also learned from the materials I found that it is important for the introverts to have their daily dose of quiet alone time to keep their sanity intact. Some people may find this strange, but actually it's only a matter of different ways of operating in social interaction. 


I usually don't feel hesitant to go out if it is to meet people I'm most comfortable with, and that consists of a limited number of close friends. But there are times, when I feel quite drained and need my solitude, that I decide not to meet even my closest friends. I never really try to explain this to my friends, because, honestly, I don't know how.


But I also realized that I don't have to always indulge my habit.  While I think it might be good to let my friends know that I'm okay and I don't need social interaction booster, I also think that there are times when I need to break the routine once in a while; to go and meet them even when I don't feel like to.


One of the recent examples was the fast breaking gathering I mentioned earlier. I went there despite feeling that I'd rather go home and sit myself on the bed and read some books. I made the right decision because it was really nice, and I really had a good time meeting them. We still contact each other until now, and even sending broadcast message within our whatsapp group a few times a day. Broadcast message has always been considered to be the most annoying thing in mobile phone interaction, yet nobody in the group seems to complain. I can even say I enjoy it. It's less disturbing compared to text messages (where you usually required to reply immediately), and it keeps you updated of what your friends are doing without having the obligation to reply immediately, because there will always be someone else replying first. 


A few days after that, I was faced with another situation where I had to go to a family gathering. It was the third times that month, all of them were held during the weekend, where I was supposed to have a quiet time alone. I went to the first and the second because I felt like to at the time. By the time they told me that there's going to be another family gathering, I started to form an escape plan. It was a moment when I was very snappish, due to the lack of alone time, and I knew that at times like that the best thing to do for me was to stay in my room for hours until I feel calmed and gain my energy back.


But I came to the gathering anyway. 


We were asked to gather at my aunt's house because she was severely ill and her condition is worsening. I love my aunt. She's one of the person from my childhood that I'd remember the most. So I went there to see her. She looked so happy seeing her nieces and nephews and grandchildren, and she told my Mom that she hadn't been this happy since months ago.


So I guess, I did the right thing.


It might be a torture at the beginning, but I think doing extra effort to go and meet the people you love and care about, would worth it. To find that you are actually happy being around them, and that they actually love to have you around, would worth it.


I learned that it is important to know yourself and what works best for you, but it is also important to be flexible and tolerate, when needed. Love, and caring, are the operative words, I suppose :)




Bintaro, 6.30 am

a meltdown

I’ve been reading quite an amount of materials on INFJ and introversion in the past week and I started to really get a grip of what has been going on in me. I guess I’m one of those less lucky introverts who hadn’t find out about the nature of their personality sooner. Will talk about this later, but I guess what I’m having right now is one of the introverts situation.

I’m writing this during a family gathering event. Well, not yet started as this is supposed to be a fast breaking. We’re still waiting for some people. I guess I’m lucky because I got the chance for some quiet moment, as long as the kids leave me alone. So I sit on the patio and opened my laptop, trying to write something to release the tension.

I’m currently having a meltdown. I’m feeling snappish and ready to pick a fight with anyone. The right thing to do right now actually is to lock myself alone in a room and having some alone moment (which I’ve been trying to have since this morning but failed completely since my daughter somehow became mysteriously demanding for no apparent reason) to recharge my energy and neutralize the emotion. Yet, I couldn’t do it, as I have to go to this family gathering.

At times like this, I usually try to find some secluded place, away from the crowd. This time it’s the children swing on the front yard. It’s pretty much quiet because everyone will be inside of the house, gathering around the table waiting for the time to break their fast.

So here I am, typing my heart out, hoping to release whatever it is I’m feeling, drop by drop…

I'm just being me (confession of an INFJ)

                                         
Since I was a little girl I have always been an alien. I couldn't explain it back then, but I unconsciously understood that it is difficult for me to fit in with most people. I was one of that loner little girl, having to bear people misunderstanding me from time to time.


I'm all grown up now and I can say that nothing much has changed (aside from the normal physical, biological changes and the development of thinking). I can feel that there are parts of me that haven't changed at all. There are things that have already been there since a long time ago, even before I was born.


I remember that there were certain phases in my life where I was completely frustrated because I couldn't understand myself better. I started to learn how complicated I am and how it frustrated me to know that and could not do anything to change that. I couldn't change the way I was because, no matter how good my understanding was, somehow I knew I couldn't touch that part. I felt that there's a distance between me and that certain parts of myself.


It was a long years of struggling. I was always one of those people who are completely uncomfortable with themselves, and constantly think that there must be something wrong with them. At my worst moments, I usually felt like Eeyore, Pooh's donkey friend who carries dark clouds above its head wherever it goes.


It wasn't until a year ago that I finally made peace with it.


I've learned to accept that there are some people who are sunshine, and there are some people who are clouds. Some people are meant to shine and cheer, and some people are meant to sit quiet at the back row, doing whatever they have to do, watching the whole world from afar without making any intrusion to the cheering crowd. Not because they don't want to, but because they just can't. Having these people inside the cheering crowd would be just wrong. Because they cheer differently, they laugh and shout and celebrate silently, and most of the time, they do look peculiar in the middle of the cheering crowd.


One day I found the test about Jung personality types. 


I took the test and the result came out that I am an INFJ (Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging).

INFJ - "Author". Strong drive and enjoyment to help others. Complex personality. 1.5% of total population.

Personality Test by SimilarMinds.com

Out of curiosity,  I did further research on the personality types, particularly the INFJ, and found a lot of useful readings related to the topics. And it quite gave me the creep initially because what I found there was exactly what I've been feeling/having all along.


Here's a brief explanation (or rather, collection of words) describing the INFJ:

Source: SimilarMinds

And there's also more detailed explanation from the Personality Page and Typelogic. 


I discovered that every aspects of myself that I wished to change, are exactly those that make a person INFJ. I wished to be more outgoing and easy with people, I wished to lessen my craving for solitude and be more comfortable in the crowd, I wished to be more rational and get my head off of the clouds, I wished I wasn't that sensitive and difficult to be understood. I've tried many ways and every time I did something to change them, I lost myself. Until one day I feel that it's really exhausting to keep changing yourself to be something that probably not you at all, and decided that if it makes me a peculiar person being who I am, then be it.


Of course there should be more comprehensive test and more complicated reading on the test result, more than just what I found online. But I'm glad because it reminds me that there's nothing wrong with me, that I was just being me, and that such people like me, do exist. And that there's nothing I have to change about me because all the things I wished to change, are not actually bad to have as a part of my personality.


It really depends on how you look at it.


Yesterday, I accidentally opened this ebook which has been in my folder for months. It was a book about self acceptance, and the author was someone who has gone through tough times in his journey towards maturity and self acceptance. 


I admire his courage, because to share such personal experience like his, I believe, requires a great deal of courage. He didn't mention details, but even to admit that you were once one of those negative persons with a very dark view about the world, in my opinion, requires a great deal of courage. I also appreciate his intention to inspire a lot of people by sharing the idea of self acceptance. 


However there's one thing that bothered me when reading his book. I couldn't help but feeling that he was suggesting that if you want to be happy, you have to change to be what other people see as normal or right. 


I agree with him that to be happy, you need to feel good about yourself. And that's where I think the problem is. To some people, going out and meet with a lot of people might help in exercising their confidence and eventually will teach them on how to feel good about themselves. But to some others, this could be a worst nightmare.


Some people avoiding interaction with a lot of people because they are not confident enough to be part of the crowd. Once they master the skill of self acceptance, I'm sure they will have no problem having interaction with a lot of people or being in the crowd and present themselves to the world openly. While some other people, avoiding interaction simply because they just can't. They're not comfortable with the idea of having to open themselves to a lot of people or people that they don't close with or they don't know well. And it's not because of lacking of self confidence or self acceptance. 


Why would you involved in activities that will only make you feel miserable or out of place? Why would you meet a large group of people in an attempt to have fun when you know you will not be able to have fun and you know that you'll have more fun spending time with your family or meeting your best friends (which is not more than five persons), or simply lying on your bed reading your favourite books?


I had gone through quite a similar experience as the author's. I even went to see an expert and she said that I should go out more and meet a lot of people. Having fun. I'm not old enough to spend my spare time reading books alone in my home. Such activities, she said, are only for elders. 


I tried, and I failed. 


I couldn't find the excitement being in the middle of the crowd.


And I finally learned to accept that this is just the way I am. I am just fine. I maybe having a problem with myself, but that's no more than other people having problem with themselves too. Instead of wasting my time questioning myself and wondering why I can't be like other people and trying so hard to be 'normal', I learned to accept that I'm just different. And there's nothing abnormal about being different. 


A friend once asked me whether I'd come to the office party that was about to be held. I said I don't think so. Then he said he doesn't understand why I shouldn't come, because it would only justify the stereotype about research people.


I'm working in a research division, and I'm not sure about the existing stereotype about people working in research field. For one, my boss, who is a Research Manager, went to the party, and she enjoyed it.  Secondly, I did came to the party held in the previous year. I didn't come this year, simply because I didn't feel like to at the time. 


I understand that, this friend of mine, he might have this stereotype in his mind that people working in the research field cannot have fun with themselves. And there's nothing I can do about it. He didn't gave me the chance to answer, and I choose to let it go anyway.


I believe that if you want to be happy with who you are, you have to accept what you are. And by that, I'm not talking about becoming who you are and adjusting it with what other people see as right or normal. 


Bottom line is, know what makes you comfortable. Accept it, and make the best of it. People might think of you as peculiar or weird, and that's just the way it is. They should not force you to be what you are not, and you should not force them to understand what you are. Keep in mind, that you're not the only 'weird' person in the world. And even though their number is limited, that should not prevent you from being happy.


I have a very dear friend who constantly reminding me that happiness doesn't always materialized in laughters and cheers and the sound of trumpets. Happiness may materialized through serenity. And more importantly, through whatever it is that makes you happy. 

So, I guess I've finally found the answer to my question: is there something wrong with me? Or am I just being me?

I am not Eeyore, and I am not a donkey, and I don't think I've been carrying dark clouds above my head.

I think, I am just being me. And that should not prevent me from being happy :)




Bintaro, on a cloudy Sunday afternoon