the not-blog

Epitome of Introversion


I have lived a secluded life since I can remember and I love it with all my heart. For me, being alone is something I need like the air I breathe, something most people don’t understand, as many are always anxious to surround themselves with as many other people as possible.

as an introvert, i like to engage in activities that are generally considered boring, cerebral, nerdy or old-fashioned: i like to read, learn, research and inform myself about a variety of topics. but mostly i work in one form or another, writing is one of them for me.

however, being alone is not synonymous with loneliness, and even though i avoid social contact as much as possible, that doesn’t mean i can’t or don’t want to get along with other people. i love people and interacting with them, and i crave friendships and deep emotional connection just as much as the next person. however, i dose my social contacts differently than most, and radically downregulate them on purpose.

silence and being alone are powerful forces for me, which i need to concentrate and focus. only in silence i find the strength to pursue my work, to develop my projects and to release creative energies to create e.g. a small piece of art.

sometimes i feel like a tuning fork that starts humming when i have social contact. and the more contacts that follow each other, the louder and longer the sound lasts. on the one hand, this is nice, but on the other hand, that very sound interrupts my focus and distracts me. this effect accumulates with social contacts, but also with all other external influences that distract from the essential. yet our world has already become so noisy that the background noise alone is sometimes enough to distract from the essential.

the process itself is by no means to be condemned. it’s nice to be stimulated socially and intellectually by other people, to feel that one is alive. however, the buzzing sometimes goes on for so long that i lose sight of the essentials. one runs the risk of occupying oneself mainly with the joys, the worries, and under certain circumstances even the trivialities of other people.

It sounds like a paradox: the quieter the tuning fork hums, the more i am with myself, and the louder the tone, the further i distance myself from myself .it is as if one moves between the states of an individual and the part of a community.

Like everything else in life, however, it’s the rhythm that counts, in good doses, but nothing works without rhythm: a constant alternation of phases of being alone and phases of purposefully seeking contact – to keep the creative motor running.

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