Laurie Helgoe Ph.D. - Introvert Power: Why Your Inner Life Is Your Hidden Strength

PRAISE FOR

INTROVERT POWER

"This is such a good book! Laurie Helgoe has created an important guide to embracing one's inner life and claiming it as a rich source of power, creativity, and connectedness. Through concise yet pithy examples and exercises, she shows how to celebrate introversion and support yourself to thriveshamelessly!"

Camille Maurine, author of Meditation Secrets for Women and Meditation 24/7 , creator of the "Moving Theater" process

"Laurie Helgoe's Introvert Power is a long overdue look at the power of introversion. We shouldn't think something is wrong with us if we shun the sometimes chaotic life of an extrovert. Many of the great intellectual, artistic, philosophical, and religious thinkers were introverts. Introversion can connect us to the source of our Being so we may remain grounded as we work in the world. If you have introvert inclinations and are doubting yourself, this is a must read. Or if you know someone who exhibits introvert symptoms, read this book before calling the shrink."

Bhante Yogavacara Rahula, author of One Night's Shelter: An Autobiography of an American Buddhist Monk

INTROVERT

POWER

WHY YOUR

INNER LIFE IS YOUR

HIDDEN STRENGTH

Laurie Helgoe, PhD

Copyright 2008 by Laurie Helgoe

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Helgoe, Laurie A.

Introvert power : why your inner life is your hidden strength / Laurie Helgoe. p. cm. ISBN 978-1-4022-2000-5 (trade pbk.) 1. Introversion. I. Title. BF698.35.I59H45 2008 155.2'32dc22

2008004967

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

BG 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To Catherine, midwife to my introversion, ten years ago today.

To Barron, The One, twenty-five years into the best decision we've made.

Believe nothing.

No matter where you read it,

Or who said it,

Even if I have said it,

Unless it agrees with your own reason

And your own common sense.

Buddha

INTROVERT

POWER

Contents

People?

I f you haven't been to a mosh pit, you've probably seen one in movies. A mob of people are crowded together, body to body, dancing and slamming into each other, usually at a live music club or concert. Occasionally, someone dives into the pit from the stage and "surfs" on the upraised arms of the crowd. The challenge of "moshing" is to work your way as close as possible to the band and to avoid getting trampled. Security guards keep watch in case such a thing happens, but any mosher will tell you that the pit is dangerous.

I've come to see the mosh pit as an apt description of American societyand of my childhood home. I was number nine out of ten bright, creative, and mostly LOUD kids. My dad, an eccentric genius, had wall-sized speakers in the living room that blared out classical music. When the family sang together, we sang five-part harmonies of the uncompromising Handel's Messiah. On Christmas Eve, we had a talent show and family service, and later tore into our presents all at once, paper and ribbons flying everywhere and voices crisscrossing the room shouting out "thank you!" and "just what I wanted!" These are happy memories, because there was a part for each of us. But instead of ripping paper and shouting, I sat in my corner with my pile of gifts and handled each as a treasure, slowly and carefully opening them, preserving the paper and lingering in the delight of discovery. I was meditating in the mosh pit.

However, when there were no gifts to open and everyone was competing for airtime, I felt invisible and became over-stimulated and anxious. My anxiety was not about the pressure to socialize; there were more than enough bodies to take care of that. I became anxious because I couldn't think, and, without my own mind, I felt like I was disintegrating. My solution was to retreat to my room and write. In my solitude I could regain contact with myself and become solid again.

I had a rich imagination; I wrote science fiction and developed secret codes with my little sister and a neighbor girl. Though the mosh pit was stressful, I knew that retreating was an option.

I lost this freedom when I entered school.

In first grade, I got scolded for hiding out in the bathroom with a couple of girls during recess. We were sprawled out on the floor, quietly engaged in the subversive practice ofyes, coloring. That's when I learned that my desire for quiet and solitude was bad.

I adapted. Years later, as a PhD candidate in clinical psychology, I didn't tell anyone that I was intimidated by the prospect of sitting in the room with a stranger. I wanted to be under the surfacenot to have to get there through social exchange. Again, I adapted, found success as a psychologist, and had practiced for almost ten years when I first admitted to my analyst (and myself ) how taxing the "social exchange," particularly with new clients, had been for me. This was the first time I had acknowledged the simple truth: I am an introvert.

My confession of introversion allowed me to rediscover the treasured self I had buried when I first stepped on the school bus. My analysis provided me the time and space I had craved, and I entered a personal renaissance. I took my first-ever personal retreat, letting my husband and little boys handle things while I indulged in the privacy of a remote B&B in the woods. I began a prolific period of writing, learned to craft candles, discovered poetry, and, for the first time, saw a world beyond the constrictions of my profession. Predictably, as I came alive, people around meeven my closest family membersgot worried. What if I relinquished my hard-earned career to sell candles on the art fair circuit? What kind of crazy ideas was I getting from my analyst? It hurts when the self you most value becomes a source of worry. But once you tap into that self, the worry won't stop you.

What kept me going was the energy I discovered. For the first time since my carefree childhood days, I experienced flow. When I took my solitary walks, I felt I could walk forever, basking in the ample space for thought and imagination. I discovered the sky and drew on its vastness as a source of comfort.

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