The Introvert's Catnip

“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!”

-Sung by Andy Williams, and a host of others since.

The holiday season doesn’t always seem wonderful, does it?  Or, to break down the word into its literal meaning, “full of wonder”.   When was the last time you were filled with wonder at this time of year?

Before I go any further here, allow me a disclaimer.  I celebrate Christmas both as a Christian, and as someone who observed the holiday even when I cared little for Jesus.  I don’t feel particularly obliged to say any festive greeting other than “Merry Christmas” unless I know for certain that the recipient of my greeting is a strong adherent of a faith other than Christianity.

I mention this because I’m not using the term “holiday season” in this post to be intentionally generic, or out of sensitivity to the reader.  Rather, I’m using the term because “the holiday season” and the craziness associated with it now gears up before Thanksgiving and rages on through Christmas and into the early days of the New Year.  Yes, Christmas is the centerpiece of this season for most in the Western world, but so much of what we do during these six weeks (give or take) is now far more cultural than spiritual.  Plus, even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, chances are that you’re still caught up in – or at least impacted by – the relative madness of this time of year.

Madness?  Yes, quite possibly.

Think about it.  Even most Christians… the ones who celebrate Christmas as a celebration of the birth of the Christ child, and everything tied in with the belief of God taking on human form… also do the following things, which have little or nothing to do with their faith:

• Kill a tree and put it in their living room.  Or, better yet, erect a fake tree.
• Send cards, many of which are to people with whom there was no meaningful contact during the preceding year, or perhaps over several years.
• Spend money that they may not have, to purchase items that they most likely don’t need.  And sometimes battle large and borderline hostile crowds of shoppers in order to do so.
• In some cases, spend money on people they do not like.

The list could go on.  And, again, these are the people who actually take the literal meaning of Christmas seriously.   Meanwhile, those who don’t adhere to the literal meaning have willingly chosen to take on the cultural part of the chaos without any of the spiritual underpinnings.

There is at least a little madness here, no?  And the focus on everything mentioned above goes on for weeks….every year!   So it’s not even an occasional or temporary bout of madness.

If you’re like me (and you have my sympathies if you are), you’ve probably had conversations resembling the following:

Person A:  I can’t believe how much there is to do during the holidays.  I’m exhausted.

Person B:  I know.  It seems like this time of year should be much simpler.

(Both give an audible sigh.  Or, if texting, an emoji equivalent.)

Person A:  Well, Merry Christmas to you.  I’m sure we’ll have this same chat next year.

(Both return to their regularly scheduled hustle and bustle.)

*******

Now, at this point, you may be thinking there’s a disconnect between what I’ve written so far, regarding holiday madness, and the title at the head of this post.  I can see why you may think this.  However, in spite of the madness, or at least the feeling of madness, I’m now prepared to launch a defense of the holiday season as we know it.  The holiday season is not ideal… it is not perfect… but it is OK.

Five Reasons That The Crazy Holiday Season is OK

1. None of us need more guilt.

This is a time of year when guilt can reign supreme.  Maybe it’s tied to the amount of money you don’t have for buying gifts, but that you’re still spending anyway.  Maybe you’re a Christian who wants to focus more on the spiritual nature of Christmas but can’t seem to find the time.  Maybe it’s related to relationships that need work or, sadly, relationships where the work can no longer be done because a loved one has passed on.

During the holidays, the last thing most of us need is a sense of guilt that we’re not prioritizing everything exactly the way we should.  We aren’t perfect, and God knows our hearts.  And if you don’t believe in God… well, he still knows your heart… but I’m also sure that you’re doing the best you can during the holidays to bring love within your circle.

2. Your effort matters.

I have very fond memories of the holiday seasons during my childhood.  The anticipation of opening gifts… the great meals and baked goods… visiting grandparents and other relatives… holiday music… Christmas Eve church services… the whole package.   Looking back now, I think it’s a credit to my parents (and their parents) that they put in the effort to make the holidays a special time.

Now, as a parent of children who are still at home, it’s been my turn over the past several years to put in the effort.  I hope my kids will look back on the holiday seasons of their youth with the same measure of nostalgia that I do with mine.

I recently commented to a friend that it seems the greatest enjoyment of the holidays is had by children and retirees/seniors.  Children reap many of the benefits of the holidays while putting in little of the work.   Many retirees/seniors have already done their time putting in the hardest work, and can now spend more time enjoying their role as a grandparent.  Or, even if there are no grandchildren, there is less pressure around getting a tree, decorating, gift-buying, and the whole nine yards.

For those of us who are no longer children, and also not yet retirees/seniors, we’re likely at the point of life where we’re putting in the greatest effort.  Remember that it does matter.  And, eventually, there will be rest.

3. The holidays are a time to get connected.

Human connections can be complicated.  They can also make life more hectic, the more connections you have.  And the holiday season multiplies all of it.

This is the time of year when we make plans with extended family, some of whom we haven’t seen since this time last year.   If not for the holidays, would we make any such plans other than the ones which are most convenient?

And then there are the Christmas cards.  Yes, it’s a little nutty to send a card to someone with whom no other effort has been made during the year to make a connection.  But… at least the effort is made now, during the holidays.

The bottom line is that, within a six-week period (give or take), many of us try to squeeze in connections with nearly everyone who currently has, or once had, some measure of importance in our lives.  This is a good thing, right?

4. We are reminded to give (and, sometimes, especially to those we don’t like).

Yes, we overspend.  Sometimes we take on debt.  We feel the pressure to finish the shopping for everyone on our gift list.

And yet… there is a joy that comes with giving.  Our motives may not always be the purest, and we may feel a sense of financial irresponsibility during the holiday season.  These are things we all need to consider and deal with on a personal level.   But somewhere, in the midst of it, joy can be found.

Amazingly, this is felt most keenly when we give to those who cannot, or did not, give back to us.  It is truly more blessed to give than receive.

5. The holiday season can be a time of healing if we open ourselves to it.

This can be a painful time.  A time when grief, loss, or loneliness can be intensified.   A time when the failures or hurts of the past months are magnified, because we are conscious of the year drawing to a close, and perhaps our lives are not necessarily where we want them to be.  And many wrestle with this while also trying to meet the demands that the season brings.

Furthermore, our culture is increasingly characterized by divisiveness.   The ability to relate to, and dialogue with, those of different viewpoints or ideologies is as hard as it’s ever been.  This can create serious holes in our desire for joy, seasonal or otherwise.

Strength and healing can be gained in knowing that you’re not alone, either in personal struggles or in navigating cultural minefields.  The holiday season can provide a unique context of fellowship, redemption, and charity toward others.  For those who see the season through the eyes of faith, I would venture that these opportunities are even more abundant, as we seek to honor the One who is the foundation of it all.

*******

Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s easy.  I’m at the head of the line for those who feel that the holidays can be done in a better, more organic, more faithful way.  Where we have the conviction to make changes, we should consider it.  But I am also an advocate for taking what we have and directing our focus toward the good.

Merry Christmas, all.

 

Blogger’s note:  

The Introvert’s Catnip started out with ambition… nine entries over the course of the first three months.  Somehow, along the way, what initially felt like a short-lived gap in writing after my post on January 12, 2019, then turned into months… and then, almost a year.  

During these months, I had five posts that were started and never made it to completion.  Ironically, the one that did make it to completion – this one – was written during the busiest time of the year.  Madness!

Life can get in the way of the best-laid plans.  Sometimes by our own choices, and sometimes by things we most definitely would not choose.  This blog has always been geared to my own introspection, and this post is no different.

Maybe I’ll squeeze in another post or two before another 12 months pass.  Here’s hoping.

Disclaimer:  The subject of this blog post is one for which I do not claim to have all of the answers.  Or even many of the answers.  Maybe none of the answers?  Heck, maybe you should just stop reading now.  But if you do continue… consider this more of a food-for-thought exercise than an attempt at instruction.  OK?  Good.  Here we go.

There is a phrase that has been making the rounds for quite some time now, and it goes like this:

BE THE BEST VERSION OF YOU!

In its simplest form, this idea of being the “best version of you” is about self-improvement.  Doing the necessary things to maximize your time and talents, to bring your positive attributes to the forefront, and to maybe reduce or eliminate the not-so-positive aspects of You.  It’s about making you into more of the You that you want to be.  (Wait… what?).  Or, at least making you into more of the You that you think you should be.   Phrased in another way that has made the rounds, it’s about “living your best life.”

There are A LOT of tips on doing this.  I recently Googled the words Best Version of You and, as you can imagine, there is a massive amount of websites, articles, and lists dedicated to this venture.  Books have been written on the topic.  It gets such widespread treatment, it would seem it should be easy for you and for me to be the absolute best versions of ourselves.

At random, I visited a few of these Google hits, and here is a sampling of the ways to BE THE BEST VERSION OF YOU!   To keep it manageable, I just took the top five from each list.

List 1:

1. Know what you want.
2. Engage with your intention.
3. Practice your passion – take action.
4. Raise your energy – turn up the heat.
5. Gather positive people around you.

List 2:

1. Live every day on a fresh new start.
2. Be true to who you are.
3. Quit complaining.
4. Be proactive.
5. Rather than think “what if,” think “next time”.

List 3 (had a fitness/physical slant):

1. Stay in shape, be fit. External appearance and being presentable matter a lot.
2. Look good, groom yourself.
3. Be yourself, don’t imitate others.
4. Be upright physically and morally.
5. Be stress-free in life.

List 4 (had an entrepreneurial slant):

1. Just show up.
2. Start from the beginning.
3. Recognize that the best version of yourself should be your vision, not anybody else’s.
4. Stop looking for a secret trick.
5. Use Twitter to network.

The lists go on, and on, and on.  Literally.  Using a Google search as the measuring stick, there is no end to the number of lists to point you in the right direction to BE THE BEST VERSION OF YOU!   But, to boil it all down, what does it all really mean?

Honestly, I have no idea.

Sure, I get that there are areas of life which are healthy for just about everyone to prioritize.   Be physically active.  Lower stress.  Be thankful.  Take action on your goals.  Cultivate relationships.  Each is important, and it doesn’t hurt to have reminders out there to pursue these.  But do any items from these best-life-now lists somehow transform you into a genuine uber-version of yourself?

No.  Because even if you master all of the items on the myriad lists out there, they don’t tell the whole story of You, and never will.  Not even close.  So, in the end, it’s hard for me to figure out what the endgame is when you seek to BE THE BEST VERSION OF YOU!  Other than, maybe, that your best version can beat my best version in a boasting contest?   If that’s the case, I’m afraid that — at least at some level — this “best you” business can be little more than a thinly veiled version of narcissism.  Unless we’re really, really careful.

Don’t misunderstand me.  If you’re physically out of shape, seek to get in shape.  If you have relationships that need work, go work on them.  If there is something you’ve always wanted to do (like, maybe, blogging), make a commitment and start.  If your job stinks, look for a different job or bring a different attitude to the table.  This post is not meant as a call to complacency.

Rather, if you feel the need, incorporate these things into the richer and more complex fabric of your life, motivated by your own experience, your calling, your family, your friends, and your faith.  Let’s not be motivated primarily by some self-help catchphrase, which will most often lead to efforts that flame out as fast as a wayward New Year’s resolution.

So, with all of this in mind, please indulge me as I break out my own list of how I think this BE THE BEST OF VERSION OF YOU! business could work.

1. Be Yourself!

Be sure that your efforts to better yourself are within the framework of who you already are.   This “best you” concept would seem to work best when you are focused on You… not on becoming someone else.  This doesn’t mean that we don’t sometimes stretch ourselves, or learn new skills, or gain new experiences.  But God has designed you as a unique individual, and for a reason.  If the goal is to be a Better-You, just be sure to not lose You in the process.

2. Use your gifts and skills for the encouragement or the betterment of others.

This makes any effort at a “best you” much more worthwhile than trying to be better just to be… better.  Whatever your skill-set, or personality, or experience… use it to build up other people.  If you are seeking self-improvement, do it within the context of improving the lives of others at the same time.  Anyone can do this, and it doesn’t need to be high-profile.  I know many people who are behind-the-scenes motivators and encouragers.  They aren’t hung up on being the “best version” of themselves, but they might already be just that.

3. Embrace the broken parts of you.

A confession.  I find people to be far more interesting, genuine, and approachable when they are up-front about their shortcomings.  And not just in a self-deprecating and humorous way (although that does have value).  Since we are all imperfect and in need of grace, shouldn’t we be willing to have conversations about this?  In my opinion, a “best you” journey should incorporate this willingness.  “I’m seeking to better myself, but here is where I struggle”.

4. Cultivate the relationships that allow you to be, and feel, the most like yourself.

Hopefully, we all have a few of these relationships, either within family or as friendships.   Ideally, both!  It’s hard to describe it, but you know it when you have it.  A relationship where you feel that you can just be yourself, in joy and in sorrow.  These relationships help you stay grounded to You, even if you’re seeking a Better-You.

5. Know Your Creator

This is not the least important item on my list, but I wanted to end with it.  You may not be a Christian, and from the standpoint of reading my blog, I’m totally OK with that!  I’m happy with all types and persuasions taking a few moments to read the stuff I write.  That said, I do happen to be a Christian myself, which informs my view of everything.  I hope you are OK with that… but, regardless, just keep in mind that you’ll sometimes get some God here on The Catnip.

I believe that each individual has been created by God.  I believe that because of our own mistakes, wrongdoings, and the ways in which we go astray from the intentions of God, there is a gap between who God created us to be, and who we are.  To mend that gap, God became as one of us in the person of Jesus.   The loving and self-sacrificial death (and subsequent resurrection) of Jesus provided the means of redeeming each of us.  Our response to Jesus, then, determines whether we truly ever reach the best of what God has for us.

I always feel like it’s a bit cheesy to quote song lyrics, but in spite of that, I’m going to end this post with words from a song.  I appreciate the use of the phrase “the truest version of yourself”, as I think this might more aptly capture our plight and our goal, as humans, to be better and do better.

To lay it all on the line: your reputation, your success, your comfort. 
It’s that moment when fear is overcome by faith. Live free. 
It’s not the liberty to do whatever you want whenever and wherever you want, 
But rather it’s living in accordance with the author of humanity 
And finding freedom by connecting with the creator who conceived you. 
Let the light flood into your eyes for the first time. 
Feeling the blood course through your veins, finding the truest version of yourself 
By knowing the one who knows you even better than you know yourself. 
Love strong. Because you were first loved. Because without love we all perish.

(Artist:  For King and Country.   Song:  O God Forgive Us)

As always, thanks for reading.  Until next time,

Gary

Yes, Rules of Engagement.  This is serious stuff.

In my house, I’ve been responsible for our outgoing Christmas cards since our twins were born.  Before then, I don’t remember if we actually sent Christmas cards.  But once those little bundles of joy arrived, and there were digital photographs to document their existence and growth… Hello, Shutterfly.com and the creation of custom cards each holiday season.

I don’t remember exactly why the Christmas cards fell to me within the family dynamic, but they did.  Given that it’s been my responsibility, I have developed a love/hate relationship with the annual process of Christmas card production.  Simply put, a lot goes into it, and that’s why my Rules of Engagement have evolved.  There has to be some type of game plan when approaching such an undertaking, especially one that occurs at a time of year that is already inherently busy.

For me, this is Year 15 of doing the cards, and it’s become clear that there are two main components of the process.   First (in chronology, but far less interesting overall) is the logistical piece associated with the purchase and mailing of cards.  Over the years, I have managed to streamline the process a bit and make things at least somewhat easier on myself.  But I’m not going to bore you with my thoughts on ordering online, addressing the cards and applying postage, the ideal timing around mailing the cards, and the like.  And if I did, it would be some transparent attempt to impress you with my organizational prowess.  So, in an effort to not lose you completely, I’ll pass on that piece.

Instead, I’m going to spend the next several hundred words probing a far more intriguing element of Christmas card distribution.  One which, presumably, most of us can relate to.

WHO. GETS. ONE.

Now, the outcome of this is not an exact science, but there are some parameters that have served me well in recent years.   Perhaps to your benefit, for future planning, I now present my Christmas Card Rules of Engagement (Subdivision B: Choice of Recipients).

Some of the details which follow below are probably privileged information, in that they reveal more of my mindset than maybe I should.  But, really, that’s what this blog is turning into, as my last entry, umm, showed.  More about me than I should share, and more than you probably want to know… or see.  No offense ever intended, and hopefully none taken.

But, I digress.  This year, I sent approximately 80 cards, which is a lot compared to some, and a drop in the bucket compared to others.  For me, it feels like a lot.  In deciding on recipients, the categories that were under consideration for me (more subconsciously than anything, until now) are as follows, in descending order of priority:

People who will ALWAYS get a Christmas card.  This includes family and core friends.  Whether we receive a card in return has zero bearing on the future sending of cards.  We may not even see each other all that often.  Whether you want a card from us, or not… you’re getting one.  You can only avoid us by falling off the grid and not providing forwarding information.

People who have continued to get a Christmas card over many years, but are (relationally) a notch below the group of people above.  We are friends. We have known each other for quite a long time, and perhaps see each other regularly.  Or at least we are in touch often by text or social media.  It’s unlikely you’ll drop off the list anytime soon… but there’s a chance.  So behave yourself.

People at church, or in the workplace, with whom there’s a daily or weekly cordial relationship.  We don’t really hang out, but I see you often enough to enjoy sending a card.  This category is, admittedly, a little hit or miss.  Nothing malicious intended if I see you often and you didn’t get a card.  (It’s fun to keep you guessing, though.  Better kiss up to me, just in case).

People who are new recipients of a card, because of an emerging relationship over the past year or two.  I’m just going to come out and say it:  You are a tenuous recipient. Nothing personal.  I’m happy with the new relationship and I’d like to have you be a repeat recipient for several years, but no guarantees.  We’ll see how things go.

People who are longer-time friends, and should be on the list, but for whom I do not have a current address.  Sorry, I could have asked, or taken the time to stalk you online for your personal information.  I didn’t.  The holiday season is busy.

People who no longer have a regular connection with us, but with whom I’d still like to share some Christmas cheer.  This category is perhaps the most nebulous.  It’s a gut feeling, more than anything.  You could fall off the list at any time.  You’ve been warned.  But, until then… Merry Christmas!

People who really have no logical reason to still be on the list of recipients.  I should have taken you off a while ago.  Pure laziness on my part, or maybe a small twinge of advance guilt.  Either way… your days are numbered.  If I can overcome my laziness and guilt.

Let’s face it, you can’t send a Christmas card to everyone.  There are a lot of good people in our lives (or at least a few, when it comes to us introverts), and there needs to be some level of prioritization.  Plus, those beautiful custom cards are pricey, and the time needed to get them in the mail is limited.   Finite resources call for a defined approach.

The sorting process outlined above has given me some sense of structure over the course of time.  Maybe you can adopt something similar.  And, if you do, adopt the ruthless attitude with it.  It’s all about keeping it real.  And the list manageable.

You’re welcome.

________________________

I can’t think of a better use of the comments feature on this blog than to share how YOU determine your list of Christmas card recipients.  I’d love to hear from you.  Even if you don’t get a card from me.

It’s a special Thanksgiving edition of The Introvert’s Catnip!  Hope your turkey feast and holiday companions were everything you’d hoped they would be.  And, if not… well, there is always next year.

This will be a short Catnip segment.  In fact, I had no plans to post today, but an embarrassing episode has brought me to the keyboard.  While some people run from embarrassment, I have this tendency to run toward it.  Perhaps it’s a desire to not be boring, or maybe it’s that old saying, “There’s no such thing as bad publicity”.

Regardless, it’s a fitting episode for a day of gluttonous consumption.  Our Thanksgiving dinner plans had brought me, Mrs. Gary, and the kids to the home of my sister in Southern Vermont.  We arrived at our destination in sub-20 degree temperatures, certainly considered to be unseasonably cold for late November.   As we hustled from the car toward the house, it’s remarkable (in retrospect) that I didn’t notice the conditions to be just a little bit colder than everyone else did.

There we were, upon the steps leading into the house… kids already through the doorway, with me and Mrs. Gary close behind.   Mrs. Gary then says, in a hushed tone, “Your pants are torn”.

I had barely uttered the words, “Wait, seriously?”, when we were suddenly inside the house and being greeted by various family members.  While exchanging hugs, my hand slowly crept to my, umm, posterior to assess the damage.  Gulp.

Quickly, I removed my coat and tied it around my waist, with the body of the coat hanging down below my backside like some kind of butt-cape.   Time for quick thinking.  Still greeting family, no immediate bathroom near this entry point of the house…. what to do?   The coat has temporarily concealed the damage, but going through the next few hours with a coat tied around my waist would seem to require…. an explanation.

Sometimes in life, we are in search of a way out, when there simply is none.  Faced with such a moment, I cleared my throat and spoke to the assembled group.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make.   I am going to be wearing my coat tied around my waist because I have just been informed there is a split in the seat of my pants.”

As you will notice in the photo, the jeans aren’t exceptionally tight.  And, ironically, this occurred before eating Thanksgiving dinner.   Perhaps it was just the right time for these particular jeans.   Even if the timing was anything but.

And, please — no comments about the color of the boxer shorts.  Not my choice.  They come in a multi-pack.

_____________________

As far as actual tight pants go…. this is always worth a watch.   Happy Thanksgiving to all.

My 25-year college reunion recently came, and then it went.  I did not attend.

In fact, I have yet to attend any of my high school or college reunions.  I don’t have a rock-solid reason for my avoidance, as it seems to be more the vague sense of trepidation that many of us can feel concerning reunions.  Also, in my case, college was (and is) an eight-hour drive from home.  Certainly not a deal-breaker, but also not a day-trip.

Despite taking a pass on the actual, physical trip to celebrate the Messiah College Class of 1993, 25 years removed, thoughts about the college years sent me on the virtual trip down memory lane.  It’s a trip from which I have not yet completely returned.

Twenty-five years is a long time, a generation by most agreed-upon standards.  A lot happens.  I’m now 47 years old, which seems like something outside of my own perception of who I am.  I am the dad to twins who are only four years younger than I was when I started my college studies.  I’ve been married for 21 years and have been working in my profession for 20 years.  Simply put, I’m not getting any younger.  With apologies to Benjamin Button, none of us are.

By this measuring stick, four years of undergraduate college life could seem like a blip on the screen.  For some people, especially those who aspire to much grander things, I’m sure it is.  But for me, it was an incredibly formative time, the effects of which are still deep in my bones.  It was a time of newfound independence, discovery, growth and – at times – disappointment, challenge, and reflection.

Here’s the thing, though.  Although I have a short-term memory that is near photographic, my longer-term memory is anything but that.  I can sometimes look at actual photographs of long past events and not remember being in that moment, or at least not remember in a meaningful way.  Perhaps this is common?  I don’t know.  Regardless, there has been this recent effort on my part, with those college years, to re-attach some of the finer details in what I know to be a significant period in my life.

Enter the Skylark.

The Buick Skylark was my college car.  A burgundy 1984 Buick Skylark, to be more precise.  As part of my trip down memory lane to the college years, I dusted off some old photo albums and, in the midst of people and places, was reminded of my old traveling companion.

Granted, the Buick Skylark was not an exciting car.  I mean, look at the photo!  Classmates with greater resources had vehicles far more interesting.  But the Skylark was my car.  It was the first car I purchased with my own money.  And it ended up playing a role in nearly every important piece of my college and fledgling adulthood experiences.

As mentioned in my first Catnip post, part of my motivation with this blog is to feed my creative spirit.  And to write about things that are important to me.  So, without further ado, and (frankly) without caring if this matters to anyone but me, I present Gary’s Greatest Skylark Moments, as a framework for my foundational college years.  It was just a car, yet it was so much more.

The Skylark Acquisition

My first real girlfriend in life came on the scene during my freshman year in college.  We dated for a good portion of that year, and partly into our sophomore year.  In those days, for someone who lived on campus as I did, you could not have a vehicle during your freshman year.  I believe this was some attempt at helping freshmen spend more time on, and better integrate into, the college campus.  Less ability to escape back home, I guess.

(All I know for sure is that this policy ultimately caused headaches for someone who, years later, would become the mother of my children.  This is what is called a teaser, and will be given more context in the next “greatest” Skylark moment below).

As I transitioned into my sophomore year, during which I would be allowed to finally have a vehicle on campus, a friend of my girlfriend was selling the Skylark.  Given my need for a car and coupled with a reasonable price point, I agreed to the purchase.  Interestingly enough, it was right around this time when I got cold feet at the prospect of a continued long-term romantic relationship and thereby ceased to have a girlfriend.  But a different long-term relationship, with the Skylark, was just beginning.

The Relief of Ditching Me, As Experienced by the Future Mrs. Gary

I grew up in Massachusetts and still live here.  Meanwhile, college was (and is) in Pennsylvania.  Because of the aforementioned policy concerning on-campus freshman and vehicles, it was a challenge during that first year of college to get from Point A (college) to Point B (home) for holidays and other college breaks.

Ladies and Gentlemen, for the very first time on the pages of The Introvert’s Catnip, I give you… Mrs. Gary.   But, in this context, she was not yet Mrs. Gary.   Ohhh, not even close.

You see, in 1989, the Future Mrs. Gary went to the same college as I did, and was also from Massachusetts.  Being one year ahead of me in school… as a sophomore… she was able to live on campus AND have a vehicle.  Very nice combination.  And nice for me, too, because I needed rides back to Massachusetts… where she happened to be going when school was not in session.

So, we became carpool buddies and shared gas expenses.  And that’s about all we shared.  No shared interests (she says that I talked way too much about sports… and I did).  I couldn’t even share in the actual driving, as I didn’t know how to drive a manual transmission back then.  So, I’m using the word carpool quite loosely.

Before one of our trips home to New England, she attempted to teach me the finer points of driving a stick shift, in a campus parking lot.  With results expected in, like, 10 minutes.  I failed as the student, while she was, um, less than patient as the teacher. Picture the car lurching and bucking… frustration… sighing… finally giving up.  “Never mind, I’ll do all of the driving myself… again.”  You get the idea.

This was my signature moment with the Future Mrs. Gary during the college years.  The obvious comment to be made right here, right now, is that it’s remarkable the Future Mrs. Gary ever became the Present Mrs. Gary.

Once my sophomore year arrived, and the purchase of the Skylark (with automatic transmission) was completed, I no longer had need of her vehicle.  And she soon transferred to a different college, and no longer had need of my…. er, passenger freeloading and meager funds to help pay for gas.

The two of us then had, literally, no further contact over the next four years.  At the time, it appeared that the Skylark may have had a hand in permanently ending this relationship of convenience.

Eventually, though, we graduated from our respective schools, ended up back home in Massachusetts, and did (somewhat unexpectedly) have contact again.  Six years after lurching around the campus parking lot, we were married.  How we got from the Point A of stick shift training, to the Point B of matrimony, is a story for another time.

The Bra.  It’s Not Just for… Well, You Know.

In a previous post on The Introvert’s Catnip (“For the Love of Going Nowhere”), I gave a shout-out to my sister’s blog and mentioned that one of the nice elements of her writing is that she included bra humor.  I then alluded to my own experience with bra humor, and that I would likely get into more detail in a future post.  The future is now.

A bit later in my college experience, cruising into my junior year, a core group of friends had emerged and solidified.  Friends who would be life-long.  Friends who were supportive.  Friends who liked to laugh…  with you, for sure, but also at you.

The Skylark was humming along nicely in those days.  One of the weekly ways in which it would roll off campus was to carry me to the local supermarket, named Giant.  Really, there was nothing more freeing and autonomous to a 20-year old than to trek over to Giant and pick up a new supply of Pop Tarts, ramen noodles, and Kraft Mac and Cheese, keeping in mind a budget commensurate with these high-end products.

On one such food run, I was coming out of Giant and heading to the Skylark with my treasures.  Off in the distance, on the parking lot, I could see… something.  As I drew closer… Ha!!  It’s… it’s a bra!  A good-sized one, too.  Someone has been naughty, maybe, with their adventures resulting in the bra being flung to the breeze and ending up at Giant.  Interesting stuff for a college kid.

As I loaded my groceries into the car, something else caught my eye.  The bra appeared to be… tied to something?  I took a closer look, and sure enough, there was a length of clear fishing line tied to the bra.  Hmmm.

The other end of the fishing line?  Tied to a car bumper.  MY car bumper.  The Skylark.

“What the…?”

At this point, of course, it hits me.  I’ve been pranked.  Punk’d.  Snookered.  Someone tied a bra to my bumper.  Very funny!  Thankfully, very few people seemed to have noticed me standing there in the parking lot, temporarily dumbfounded, and I quickly used a pocket knife to cut loose the bra.  Whew.

But then, I was hit with an additional cold splash of reality.  My drive from the college to Giant encompassed a few miles, and partly on a well-traveled state road.  And, all the while, the bra was trailing along behind me.

Well played, pranksters.  Well played.  A case of boys being boys, I’m sure.  Masculine off-color college humor with the use of ladies’ undergarments?  Classic.

Nope.  Turned out this stunt was perpetrated by two gal pals of mine, who picked up the bra at a local thrift store.  (I recently had to be reminded of the thrift store piece.  Again… memory issues.)  I didn’t even get the college boy satisfaction of daydreaming that the bra belonged to one of them, personally.

Nothing tells you that someone cares quite like tying a bra to your car’s bumper.  It’s still one of my favorite college memories, despite being the victim.

Embarrassing, yes.  But perhaps the Skylark’s finest hour?  Also yes.

Baltimore.  City of Dreams.  No, really.

My original hometown in Massachusetts is very rural.  As in, no gas station rural.  I didn’t spend a lot of time in the city as a kid, with the occasional trip to Boston as the exception.  To this day, I love Boston.

During my college years, however, Baltimore was my city of choice.  Baltimore sometimes gets a bad rap, but I couldn’t have cared less back then.  The college was about 90 minutes from there, which was a more than acceptable distance given my rural background and the amount of time that it took to get virtually anywhere of note when I was a kid. And with the Skylark, I could go there whenever the time or opportunity was presented.  Have car, will travel.  To the big city.

As a baseball fan, it was notable that this time period marked the departure of the Orioles from their old Memorial Stadium, and their move into Oriole Park at Camden Yards.  The new ballpark would serve as a model for other new baseball-only venues that would be built during the next twenty-plus years.  Sports and History and Architecture is a fun combination for me (don’t judge).  At that time, though, I just knew that it was a really cool new place to catch a game.  And ticket prices were actually affordable!  For any Red Sox fan who is used to watching games at Fenway, affordable is a bit of a pleasant jolt.

Baseball has always had a nostalgic quality that I enjoy.  It remains the National Pastime.  It’s my favorite sport to watch live, sitting in the sun, or under the lights, being part of the rhythms of the game and the crowd.  To be around Baltimore at that time, in a new ballpark that was recapturing the energy of the city, is a good memory.

Baltimore also has this wonderful waterfront shopping, dining and entertainment area, in the part of the city known as the Inner Harbor.  It’s particularly enjoyable at night, with the city lights to enhance the experience.  Because of these elements, it’s a nice place for a date.

So, leading up to Valentines Day of my senior year… the clock ticking in this season of life… I asked a dear friend if she would like to go on a date, with a surprise destination.  When the evening came, the Skylark carried us to Baltimore, to the Inner Harbor.  A sucker for romantic intent, it was exactly what I wanted it to be.  The planning of a surprise, the freedom of adulthood, a car to drive, a pretty girl with me (the pretty girl of the campus, as far as I was concerned), and the city lights.

Maybe other people did this type of thing all the time.  As an introvert, and someone who was typically awkward with dating, I didn’t.  Which made it all the better.

——————-

A few months later, graduation day arrived, and the Skylark brought me home to Massachusetts.  Reacting ever more negatively to the wear and tear of the many miles, the car was retired soon after, and a shiny new Honda Civic (boring, but cheap) took its place in my travels.

Looking back, it seems perfectly fitting that the Skylark had just enough life to take me through three college years…  and  through everything that came with them.

 

My most recent post (The Imaginary Tightrope of Love) was rather preachy.   One friend said it had a sermon-esque quality, which I thought was pretty accurate.

After all, even though I believe my friend meant it as a compliment, or at the very least simply as a descriptive term,  the definition of sermon-esque that exists in my own mind goes something like this:

Sermon-esque  /Adjective/English/made-up word/   A discussion or lecture that gives the general impression of a religious sermon, but likely lacks the overall quality and depth of real sermons preached by very real and very capable pastors.  Because I am neither a very real nor a very capable pastor.

So, yes, by this definition, my post was most certainly sermon-esque.  Understand that I mean this less as an attempt at self-effacing humor, and more as a shout-out to pastors who put in the hard work, week after week, to build and deliver messages that are meant to instruct, challenge, and encourage their congregations.  What I wrote did not come close to good sermons.

After it was identified as sermon-esque, I responded to my friend, in writing, that I probably won’t get “sermon-y” all that often on this blog.  Because (and I quote from my response), it’s “not really my thing overall and it’s hard work to look stuff up.”   Followed by the requisite “LOL”.

(Full disclosure:  I did not actually laugh out loud).

Anyway, all of this is to say that a cursory glance at the title of this post lends the impression that I’m going the sermon-esque route again.  In reality, I’m not, but hang with me here for a moment.

As you may know, “Who do you say that I am?” is a question that is familiar to students of the Bible, since it was posed by Jesus of Nazareth to his disciples.  Before this question, though, he had asked them a different question:  To describe how the general crowds were identifying him during his ministry.  The moment is captured in Matthew 16:13-16:

Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”  He [Jesus] said to them, “But who do you say that I am?”  Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Simon Peter correctly identifies Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God.  A few verses later, Jesus tells Simon Peter that he was able to make this confession only because God revealed the truth to him.  Others, as shown in the text above, had reached different conclusions about the identity of Jesus.

I’ve always been fascinated by what psychologists call metaperception.   Metaperception refers to how you perceive other people’s perceptions of you.  (Go ahead, read that a few times if needed).   Or, to rephrase the question from Jesus, “Who do other people say that you are?”  And closely related to this (and the way I like to think about it), does the way that other people see you line up with how you see yourself?

Do you ever wonder about this?   When you look in the mirror, do you ever think about whether the person you are seeing is the same person that others are seeing?  I think about this quite a lot.

Now, you can head toward two opposite yet equally unhealthy directions with this.  The first is to be utterly focused on the image you are portraying to others, in an attempt to shape it into what you think others want to see, or will find attractive in some way.   At its worst, this can lead to narcissism.

The other extreme is to decide that you care nothing about what others think of you.   At its worst, this becomes sociopathic.  Much more often, though, it is manifested as a far less dangerous badge of honor worn by the maverick type who doesn’t follow social conventions.  (Ironically, most people of this sort do care what people think.  It’s just that they want people to see them as, well, a maverick type who doesn’t follow social conventions).

The fact that these are both unhealthy extremes is often best seen in — surprise! — social media.

You may find this hard to believe, but sometimes social media lends itself to narcissism. (Gasp!).  Merriam-Webster defines narcissism as “extremely self-centered with an exaggerated sense of self-importance; marked by or characteristic of excessive admiration of or infatuation with oneself.”   Ouch.   Keep in mind, though, that unless you’re completely delusional, self-importance relies to some degree on perceiving that others think you’re important.  Metaperception.

On the other hand, the “I don’t care what you think of me” group is also clearly present on social media.   This seems most often verified during arguments over religion or politics.  Whenever I see someone taking their argument to the level of running roughshod over another person, my first thought tends to be, “Stop acting like a jerk.”

But… I have to think that when someone is arguing in this fashion, they see their point as being so important and so valid, that the end justifies the means (and, sure, maybe there are times when it does).  This mindset only works, though, if you perceive that at least some people out there value you as a gatekeeper for the correct viewpoint.  Metaperception.

As with many areas where we look at the extremes, there is value to be had in the middle ground.   Just because someone has an exaggerated sense of self-importance, which tends to be an unattractive trait from the outside looking in, doesn’t mean that the person isn’t actually important.  They are important to friends, to family and to God.   Even if the rest of us aren’t totally buying into the online persona.

And in the case of the domineering political, cultural, or theological watchdog, there can still be valid viewpoints tucked within the bluster.  Even if many of us want to tune out the greater points being made, simply because of the abrasive nature.  (Which I tend to do.  Tone and approach matter).

When it comes to metaperception, I think the ideal is two-fold.   Be yourself, and be loving.  It’s possible to be both, though for many of us it can take work!  You’ll have relationships (and, on social media, an audience) that are more genuine and lasting.  And, chances are, how you perceive other people’s perception of you will end up being pretty accurate.

Who do people say that you are?  It’s worth thinking about.

_______________________

Hey, let’s go behind the scenes of The Introvert’s Catnip!

I’ve written a few blog posts now, and there tends to be a consistency in how they take shape.   As ideas come to me, I add them to a Notes file on my phone, so that I don’t later forget what topics I’ve been considering.   Once I have the chance to actually sit down and write, I start with a stream of consciousness to at least get some words on “paper”.   This inevitably leads to a certain direction on the topic, and then it gets firmed up and fleshed out as I come back to the keyboard over subsequent days.

There are sometimes things I would like to address, but they just don’t quite fit.   For example, going back to the post above, another element of metaperception is when someone sees themselves as lesser than how others actually perceive them.   I know some great people who just don’t see themselves as being the fantastic folks they are.   The humility side of that is wonderful.   A negative self-image, when it comes into play… not so much.  Anyway, I couldn’t quite make that mesh within the larger flow of the post.  Regardless, let’s build people up whenever we can.   Be yourself, and be loving.

There is also the question of how God sees you.  This is ultimately so much more important than trying to figure out how others perceive you.  Spend some time in the New Testament (I personally favor the gospel of John) and it will be clear that God sees you as loved and valued.  Even those (or perhaps especially those!) who may feel marginalized or socially outcast.   I didn’t end up going there in the body of the post as I was trying to avoid back-to-back sermon-esque entries.  But it’s too important to not address, at least briefly.

Inevitably, some things get left out of the posts or are saved for another day.  If I included everything that takes up space in my mind, the result would be far more rambling than it already is.

So, there you go.  A peek behind the curtain.  (And then metaperception rears its head as I ask myself, does anyone actually care what’s behind the curtain?).

As always, thanks for reading.

 

…God is love  — 1 John 4:8

When John wrote that “God is love”, our understanding of this may very well hinge on what he didn’t write.

He didn’t write God has love.  He didn’t write God shows love.  And he didn’t write God Knows Love while perhaps having some mystical premonition of Nike’s “Bo Knows” campaign with Bo Jackson in the late 1980s.

John didn’t put love into a bucket of God’s character traits or attributes.  Rather, he identified love as the intrinsic nature of God.  Or, perhaps more aptly put, he identified God himself as the source and essence of love.

Even if we agree that this is true, though, how do we understand love within this context?  I think there are two key elements that are particularly helpful.

First, of the several ways that the original Greek of the New Testament can be translated into the word “love”, 1 John 4:8 is describing agape love, which is considered to be the highest form of love:  selfless and sacrificial.   The idea of God being sacrificial in his love is staggering.  It means that God’s agenda in love is completely for our good.

Second, Jesus is the literal embodiment of God is love.  If we believe that love is the intrinsic nature of God, and if we believe in Jesus as Emmanuel (God with us), then it follows that the life and actions of Jesus are the perfect representation of agape in terms that humans can understand.  We must then draw the conclusion that everything done by Jesus was (and is) the truest expression of love in every situation he encountered.

I currently co-facilitate an adult Sunday School class in which we were recently talking about what it means to love others, and if there is some type of tightrope to walk between showing love while also staying true to your convictions.  How do you show genuine, selfless, sacrificial love to someone who may represent the opposite of who you are, how you feel, and what you believe in?

I think it’s telling that when Jesus encountered people — sick, broken, sinful people — he showed love and compassion first, and then offered instruction or guidance second.  The two went hand-in-hand, certainly, but there was a clear sequence.  A few examples…

• The woman caught in adultery in John 8.   First, from Jesus, “Has no one condemned you?”   Then, “Neither do I condemn you.”   Then, “Go, and from now on sin no more”.   (Love and mercy first, then the instruction to go and sin no more).
• The leper in Mark 1.   First, from Jesus, “be clean”.   Then, “See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, for a proof to them.”  (Healing first, then a command… which, incidentally, the former leper didn’t obey).
• The call of Simon (Peter) in Luke 5.  First, from Jesus, after a particularly frustrating fishing expedition by Simon that had turned up nothing:  “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.”   Then, after the big catch and Simon’s recognition of the lordship of Jesus, he told Simon to follow him and become a fisher of men.  (Miraculous and loving provision first — tailored to Simon’s point of need — and then the call to follow).

These are just a few examples, and I intentionally selected different themes.  One shows the love of Jesus in forgiveness.  One shows the love of Jesus in healing.  And one shows the love of Jesus in a calling to discipleship.  In each instance, though, the love was demonstrated first, with the lesson following after.

Now, in some instances throughout the New Testament (such as the healing of the paralytic in Matthew 9), it is plainly noted that Jesus observed someone’s faith and then followed with a miraculous and compassionate act.  And one could argue that in the case of Simon, the miracle of the fish was not so much designed by Jesus to show love but to primarily demonstrate his lordship.  I am anticipating here the contention some may have that Jesus displayed varying motives for actions during his ministry — some driven solely by love, yes, but others as a direct response to faith, and still others for providing evidence of his deity.

While I think this is a reasonable contention to make, I have two qualifiers to add.  First, we have already established that God is love and that Jesus is the perfect embodiment of this.  As a result, everything he did was through the lens of love.  Second, we are talking about Jesus here, so I think it is possible he was able to balance his love with other motives, like rewarding faith and demonstrating his nature as God, without actually diminishing the love.  Like no one else, God is able to perfectly multi-task.

And herein lies the problem for followers of Jesus.  We are NOT good at balancing our love of people (or love of God, for that matter) with other motives and agendas.  We do not have the capacity for perfect love to begin with, never mind trying to somehow show love while also condemning behavior and categorizing people into the convenient social, political, and religious boxes we have made.   It does not work.  It does not show people who Jesus is.

Jesus left his followers with ONE distinguishing mark, to be shown to the world.  “By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  (John 13:35).   He also left us with one job, to preach the gospel and make disciples of all nations.  But what is the gospel we preach?  Is it the gospel of converting as many people as possible to my own political or cultural views?  Or is it the gospel of loving one another, regardless of differences which may be very significant, and showing Jesus as the Way, the Truth, and the Life for each of us?

How, then, do we walk the tightrope between love and conviction?  We don’t, because the tightrope doesn’t exist.  Love is the conviction.  Love first, and then you will be in a better position to have tough relational conversations about sin, and faith, and hope, all of which should still point to Jesus.  And, even if you don’t get to have those conversations, still love.  If you don’t, no one will care what you have to say.

I haven’t mastered loving others or loving God.  Not even close.  I’m bad at it.  But I do want to keep trying, in the name of Jesus.

How about you?

I spend a lot of time thinking about friendships.  Maybe too much?  You be the judge.

Friendships that are real and lasting can be hard to come by.  This has never been truer than in our present day when the myriad demands of life often make us too busy to cultivate friendship.  Even when we aren’t too busy, many are too willing to accept the substitution of electronic imposters in place of authentic personal interaction.   Or, in maybe a best case scenario for some, we will settle for many acquaintances but very few close friends.

While it’s an issue that is not based strictly on gender or personality, I do think that men tend to struggle more with matters of maintaining friendship than do women.  And I suspect that introverts (men and women alike) may dwell on the intricacies of friendships more than those who are extroverted and can perhaps more easily balance a variety of friendships at different levels.  As a man, and an introvert, I have both boxes checked and therefore surely some bias as well.  Understandably, I can’t give you a woman’s perspective, or an extrovert’s, so it’s quite possible I’m way off base.

(With this in mind… those who think I am way off base are welcome to contribute their thoughts to the Comments section!  Yes, I’m promoting the blog features early this time around.   Last time, I mentioned at the end of the post how you can sign up to receive an email alert for each new post.  You know, in case you had forgotten about that).

Recently, I posted the following on Facebook:

I am reminded of how hard it can be to maintain true, genuine, lifelong friendships. Friendships where both parties value loyalty and commitment through the changes of life. Where relationship transcends the dogmatic aspects of politics or religion. Where honesty is given and received, with humility and without offense… and where forgiveness is quickly granted if an offense does occur. If you have one, or two, or five such friends, consider them as more valuable than gold. And accept (reluctantly if need be) that many more friendships are meant only for a particular season of life.

I posted this for a couple of reasons.  On the one hand, I was struck by how a limited number of friendships in life have the staying power to endure.  Many of us have those select relationships which continue to evolve over the years, even if distance or life situations attempt to disrupt.  The ability to reconnect with a dear friend, and pick up where you left off, is one of the chief joys of sustained relationship.

On the other hand, I was also feeling some frustration over how seemingly good friends can suddenly feel more distant (at best) or ultimately go separate ways (at worst).  People grow apart for a variety of reasons.  Maybe the friendship developed on the job or at church, and your friend makes a career move or worships elsewhere, and you don’t see them nearly as much.   Or, in this day of extreme political polarization, perhaps there are differences of opinion which can’t be overlooked and an “agree to disagree” approach is no longer tenable.

Either way, my post was giving voice to my ongoing realization that friendships take a lot of (shared) time, energy, and sometimes the willingness to thoughtfully embrace differences.

After reading my post, a close friend whom I hadn’t seen over the past year reached out to me, concerned that I was perceiving the friendship as being in the “season of life” category.  We spent some time catching up (electronically, as it so happened, so our tech taskmasters are not all bad) and commiserating about how it can be really challenging to make time for friends, even close ones.  It was a nice dialogue and a there was a renewed focus to make some time to connect (in person) in the foreseeable future.

In most cases where friendship is facing hurdles, no one is to blame.  Sure, there can be times when one person is putting a ton of effort into making a relationship work, and the other person simply doesn’t.  I would contend that this is one-sided wishful thinking and not necessarily a sustainable friendship.  More often, though, both parties are genuinely interested in moving the friendship forward, and there are obstacles which conspire to prevent it.

Unfortunately, there are several of these obstacles to growing and nurturing friendship, and they can be harder to overcome when a greater number are present.  The following is not an exhaustive list by any means, but these are the ones that I tend to notice, in myself or others (and I should note that none of these things are being pointed out as negatives in and of themselves, but rather just as contributing complications to friendship):

• Busy work schedule
• Busy family schedule
• Geographical distance
• Spousal differences in how much time to invest with friends, and which friends
• Health issues, particularly as we age, which limit our energy, desire, or mobility
• Communication styles
• Differences in worldview/religion/politics
• Different expectations of what a friendship should be

Related to these obstacles is another observation.  If you have a large nuclear and/or extended family, and the family members are close (both emotionally and geographically), you may feel less of a need to devote time to relationships outside of the family.   Which, honestly, makes perfect sense and is an enviable thing, I think.  Conversely, if you have a smaller family (or an empty nest) and perhaps feel less interconnectedness, you may be more eager to branch out into non-familial relationships.

Regardless of your situation, you probably have your own take on friendships, and how to prioritize the closest ones.  And you are probably mindful of friendships that have been lost or diminished over time.  You likely don’t need me to tell you how to process friendships, and I will admit that much of the reflection above may amount to an overanalysis.  (I did warn you that I think about this a lot!).  Taking a step back, friendships can truly be simple in nature.  It’s about people who have shared interests, or backgrounds, or experiences, and enjoy spending time together… or at least communicating regularly if geography has become an obstacle.

And, as much as we might like to get along with everyone, it’s hard enough to have a few really good friends, never mind trying to find room in our lives for many.  So, keeping in mind that we can always be open to new relationships, I do think it can be God’s design that we have only so much space for close, lifelong friendships.

If you have one, or two, or five such friends, consider them as more valuable than gold.

And I carry it with me and I sing it loud
If it gets me nowhere, I’ll go there proud

— Jim Croce, “I Got a Name”

When I decided to start blogging, I spent some time thinking about my goal with this.  Are there particular insights I am hoping to share?  (Probably).   Do I want to comment on certain social or political issues when appropriate?  (Ehh…maybe?).  Am I hoping this would be a starting point and a springboard to more writing in the future… the kind where I might make a buck or two, and quit my day job?  (Pipe Dream).

Or, is this just a personal exercise for me, and I’m bringing you along for the ride while hoping you’ll have an occasional chuckle and share in my food for thought?

While sorting through this, I found that writer Alli Worthington summed it up well:

Sometimes I think we just need permission to do the things we love without having to make a living at it. So I’m giving you permission. I’m telling you it’s fine for you to have a blog that gives you an outlet for your creativity, allows you to talk about things that are important to you and lets you stay connected to friends and family. You don’t have to try to monetize your joy.

So, more than anything, this exercise in blogging is (to plagiarize Ms. Worthington) an outlet for me to talk about things that are important to me, and to let me stay connected to friends and family.  And to enjoy writing.  And… OK, fine.  I admit that once or twice in my life, it might also be nice to monetize my joy.

This blog won’t change the world, so thank you for letting me set some realistic expectations upfront.  It’s also realistic to expect that, despite the name, my blog will not always feature posts that are exclusively about introverts.  Or cats.  Or introverted cats.

(As a side note, although it has already been made clear that this blog will not change the world, my web-hosting stats tell me that I have had two views from China.  More than likely, this is two views from the same person and is also some scheme to hack my account and steal personal information.  But for now, I prefer to think of it as a worldwide audience.  Adding “Internationally-Read Blogger” to my resumé is, therefore, under strong consideration).

But back to the question of intent, which is an important one, I think.  I’ve known for a while that I wanted to write, creatively, in some capacity.  But rather than just dive into it, I spent considerable time thinking about practical implications.   For example… should I try to make money by writing?  If I don’t make money, is it a waste of time?  And if I do make money, will it likely mean writing in a way that isn’t fun or inspiring to me?   Of course, none of this takes into account questions that are even more important, from a blogger’s perspective:  What if my writing sucks?  And what if no one cares, or wants to read what I’ve written?

In many ways, looking primarily through the “practical” lens complicated matters, and it led to paralysis by over-analysis.  (Believe it or not, there is a Wikipedia page on this condition).   I wasn’t writing, because I couldn’t figure out my intent.  If I didn’t know my intent, I couldn’t foresee an outcome.  And without a perceived outcome, is there a point in doing something?

Yes.  There is a point.  (“Finally!”, cries the reader).

I would argue that doing something for the joy of doing it is about as practical as you can get.  It’s the ultimate purity of intent.  After all, we are generally motivated by our own happiness, are we not?  What makes more sense than doing something because it brings you enjoyment?  (I realize that joy and happiness are not fully synonymous.  Most would agree that joy has a deeper and more enduring quality, whereas happiness might be more fleeting and subject to circumstances.  But my general point here is that we are motivated by tasks that make us feel good).

We find reasons to ignore this, or at least put it on the back burner.  Doing something strictly for the joy factor doesn’t pay the bills.  It isn’t frequently prioritized over checking items off our household to-do lists.  For those of us who are people-pleasers, it doesn’t often rise above engaging in activities that make others happy.

This, I believe, is to our detriment.  Sure, there is a balance to most things in life.  We cannot be in constant pursuit of only things that bring us joy, at the potential expense of everyone and everything around us.  And you do have to pay the bills.  But if we don’t pursue at least some things that bring us joy, and nurture those things, we will be less complete and of less use to everyone and everything around us.

The pursuit doesn’t have to be certain of the destination.  Sometimes, it’s a good idea to just get started, and see where you end up.  Next month, next year, in ten years.

So, for my own joy, I find myself writing.  It’s quite possible it’ll get me nowhere.  If so, I’ll go there proud.

(And probably broke).

———–

I’ll close with a bit of administrative housekeeping.  In my previous post, I gave some backhanded credit to my sister and fellow blogger.  I won’t playfully mock her prolific writing output this time, though.  Instead, some cross-promotion is in order. Please check out her Morning Light Reflections blog, as (1) she’s a gifted writer and (2) has used bra humor… in the blog!!   I am not kidding about this.  I am also not sure that there is a better combination in the world than good writing and bra humor.  Well, maybe peanut butter and Fluff.  But good writing and bra humor are a close second.  As a result, I am likely to incorporate this at some point.  At least the bra humor.  The good writing is questionable.

Also, in an act of shameless self-marketing, I’ll mention that you should feel free to sign up for e-mail alerts if you would like to receive a notification each time that I post here.  You should hopefully see a “Follow” prompt at the bottom of this page.  Now, while you should absolutely feel free to do this, I cannot think of a compelling reason at the moment as to why you actually would do this.  But a couple of people have, so there must be a reason out there.  (To those couple of people:  Thank you thank you oh thank you, so very much.  Check your inbox for a link to receive your free The Introvert’s Catnip t-shirt).

Finally, a plug for a current GoFundMe campaign that I care a lot about.  Check it out here and please donate if you feel led to do so.  And if you don’t feel led to do so, please consider it anyway.

Until next time, be sure to stop and smell the catnip.  But don’t overdo it.  Drunkards are embarrassing.

Gary

P.S.  There are no t-shirts.  I would say that my advertising budget is depleted at the moment, but… there is no advertising budget.  So, yeah, that’s definitely depleted.

  Continue reading “For the Love of Going Nowhere”

 

“It’s an introvert’s catnip”, my friend said.

My friend, who is a self-identified introvert and also a cat lover, would know.  We were discussing our mobile devices, and how we are so very absorbed by them.  Social media and messaging platforms, in particular, seem to offer a special form of attraction because of the connections they offer, and how.

There are, of course, plenty of extroverts on Instagram, and Snapchat, and Facebook, and everywhere else.  Social media is an extension of how they already live – lots of contacts, posts, dialogue, and…yes, social interaction and commentary.  But for the introvert, who may be less comfortable with (or more fatigued by) an overly social component, it’s almost an ideal world where one can simultaneously sit on the sideline and be connected.

Compared to the extrovert, the introvert probably writes fewer public posts on social media and therefore invites less discussion and feedback.  Paradoxically, though, the social media experience can be more valuable to the introvert, who may not (in his or her mind, anyway) have as many avenues available, or internal resources to tap into, for staying in touch with friends and the world.  Instead of posting a lot of opinions or pictures for public consumption, they are more likely to soak up what others post, from the comfort of their sofas or bedrooms, and spend time messaging with a few close friends, one on one.

The value of that interaction, and the draw we feel to it… well, it’s like catnip to an introvert.

I wrote “the draw we feel” because I’m an introvert myself.   I’m probably the textbook example, actually.   I enjoy people, but the circle of individuals I consider close is relatively small. I enjoy social situations, but I grow weary if it’s too many people for too long.  I love my family, but I’m also happy doing things on my own.  I regularly need time alone to recharge my batteries.   Not only do I need it, but at times I crave it, in a way that maybe only an introvert would understand.

Why am I writing this? Well, for one thing, I’ve decided to start a blog. And, in a tip of the cap to my friend, I’m naming my blog The Introvert’s Catnip.   A name which would have made no sense to you if I hadn’t written the six paragraphs immediately preceding this one. (Maybe it still makes no sense to you, but work with me here). And, by the way, it’s a name which I did receive permission to steal. Just to keep this legal and all.

I’ve always loved to write.   Looking back, I haven’t often done it for pleasure, or for the sake of creativity.   Most of my writing has been required, as in “I need to write this to get a passing grade in this course”… or, “I need to write this to meet a deadline and keep my job”.   That’s not exactly pleasurable, nor does it feed the creative spirit.

This blog, on the other hand, is most certainly an endeavor to feed my creative spirit. On top of being an introvert, I should note that I consider myself to be a very average guy.   There is nothing sensational about my life, or my job, or my personality.   Don’t get me wrong – for the most part, I’m happy with who I am, though I could stand to lay off the sugar and carbs a bit more often.   But, by and large, I’m just pretty darn average and spend most of my time trying to be a good husband, father, son, and friend. I’m not a skilled musician, or an artist, or an athlete. I can, however, manipulate the keyboard reasonably well, and it’s time for me to open that door a bit wider.

I’m not approaching this as some expert in a particular field, or as someone who is going to beat you over the head with my viewpoint or opinion.  I’m approaching this as someone who loves to write, and who may periodically have something worth writing.   Whether you think it is worth reading… hey, that’s up to you.   My desire is to write with equal parts humor, compassion, and introspection.  Three things that I think we could all use more of, on social media in particular. We’ll see where that combination takes us.

To my sister, who started a blog several months ago and has had a grand total of two entries so far: Keep on persevering!   If I pass you in the weeks ahead, I may mock you in a jovial way.   You can thank me later for giving you the motivation to get writing again.

Remember to stop and smell the catnip,

Gary