A Room of My Own

I've been feeling a bit introverted lately. I love having people over, and I love visiting other people, and I love my children, but the last week or so a little voice inside me has been piping up, saying, "Isn't there somewhere to go and close the door and be alone?" I was having my coffee with Mom this morning, and she said, "Sorry, but I'm still tired. I'm going back to bed."

I told her that was fine. I wouldn't mind at all if she left me alone and went back to sleep.

"I know you do mind, but thanks for saying it, anyway," was her reply, and she went back to bed.

And I had a golden half hour all to myself, before my kids woke up.

I don't find my kids stressful, mostly. I like their being around. I like shopping with them, especially when we hit garage sales, Goodwill, or other cheap places. I like playing games with them, talking to them, laughing, telling them stories...

But I also need alone time. And I haven't had that much lately. We're just about to go camping for a few days, and while I love camping and can't wait to see some friends of ours from Canada, I'm also wondering when I will next be able to get a few hours to myself. Not so that I can go to my playwrights meeting. Not so that I can meet a friend for coffee.

So that I can meet absolutely no one, say not a word to anybody, but just chill, all by myself, do whatever I would like to do, exist for a few hours in absolute, golden silence.

I have often envied people who had an office or study all of their own. People say things like, "I can come in here, shut the door, and just focus on my project without interruption." We created a workspace like this in our house in South Carolina so that I could work on my dissertation... but it didn't help. All it meant is that I had to leave it constantly to take care of my daughter, who was an infant at the time (she turned 2 three days after I graduated with my Ph.D). Instead, I set up my writing space in the living room, where I could leave it quickly and return quickly, writing ten furious pages while she napped in the carrier at my feet, printing only when she was awake (our printer was VERY noisy), and still keeping tabs on everything while I worked.

But now my kids can play on their own without my constant supervision. They play fantastically well with each other, but they still often choose to play directly near where I am writing. I love that they want to be near me (and I know that will likely change soon, as they grow older and more teenager-like), but there are times I'd like to have them one place, and me somewhere else, to hear the golden silence, to re-energize and truly focus on my pet projects.

Do you have a place on your own? Do you need one? What's your ideal creative situation?

What the Hell Am I?

Because she does it so much to me, I'm taking an idea from Rocket Scientist. Several commenters on her blog lately have described either her or themselves as "introverts," defining, in some way or another, what an introvert is, what he/she likes and doesn't, etc. When I was a child, I was painfully introverted. I still have trouble opening up in front of more than one person at a time, and only a handful of people in my life know even 10% of the real me. 

At the same time, I often come across as extroverted, especially in the classroom, where I use family stories, my dear husband, and other personal details to get my points across to students. For some reason, I feel safer in the classroom than anywhere else, as if my students would never do anything to betray me, while friends and relatives would (I may some day realize students will as well, but after 16 years of teaching they still haven't). 

So, am I an extrovert or an introvert? On the Myers-Briggs scale, I rank HIGHLY introverted, even more so than my own husband, who is most definitely an introvert. But what exactly does that mean? Does that mean I can't function in groups, or am socially inept? Not necessarily. A behavioral psychologist friend of mine--and an extreme extrovert--told me that it wasn't a matter of being able to function on one's own or in a group, it was where I received the most energy--what recharged my battery, so to speak. If I am energized by being in a group, I am an extrovert. If I recharge by being alone with myself, then I am an introvert. 

Honestly, though, such a definition might help all of you readers, but I find it still leaves me unsure. I most definitely recharge from being alone. Most of my favorite hobbies are solitary in nature: painting, drawing, writing, piano, sewing. Yet I also thrive off of several groups I am part of--whether this blog (and it's readers and fellow bloggers), or choir, or my fantastic playwright's group, or even my monthly book group made up of LDS women who read an extremely eclectic group of books. I look forward to entertaining in my home, enjoy girlfriend get-togethers, yet I would go insane if I didn't have some time to myself every single day. 

So, what does that make me? 

This reminds me of a film I saw in 10th grade... it covered right/left brain functions, and even included a test to see which side was your dominant lobe. Supposedly, if you put your thumb up in front of an object, stare at it, then close one eye, then do the same with the other, one eye will move less or not at all (meaning the vision from one of your eyes dominates your viewpoint when both eyes are open). The greater the difference between the two eyes, the more one side of your brain dominates over the other. Then the film claimed that geniuses are made up of those who are very left-lobed or very right-lobed. 

And guess what? I do not have a dominant eye. Both of my eyes create an even shift when I do the test, even after 22 years. I guess that makes me a non-genius, introvert/extrovert with no dominant brain lobe. 

Can you figure out where you stand on the spectrum? Even better, can you figure out what any of it means?