The introvert's power

Right up until sixth grade, I would have unequivocally called myself an introvert. I was an extremely soft spoken, play-quietly-in-my-room little boy. I neither had, nor needed friends, and at that time I can honestly say that the only real friend I remember was, Donald Newman, and probably Steve Slentz.

Then something happened. I can’t remember why, but I was sent somewhere into the bowels of Petroleum Elementary School. (No, I’m not kidding, and the little town of Petroleum still exists, if only as a mere wide spot in the road 10 minutes south of Bluffton, Indiana.) I came back to class, and once again I can’t remember why, with a Tonka truck, and I did something that was so out of character that to this day, I still can’t believe I did it. I put the truck on the floor, opened the door, and went roaring into the classroom. The class exploded with laughter . . . and I loved it!

From that day forward, I would have called myself an extrovert, because I learned that I loved an audience, and gladly “performed” for its entertainment . . . but from that moment until now there has been this dichotomy in my spirit. I loved, and still love the audience, but when the “show” is over, I want to just slip away and be alone and unwind.

While I certainly struggled with understanding it, and tried very hard to force myself into truly being “outgoing”, I never consciously thought a great deal about this dichotomy until Dr. Gideon King, an entrepreneurial physician, yet introvert friend of mine, introduced me to the book Quiet, by Susan Cain.

Now I understand. Read it. You will, too.