Wednesday, June 22,
2016
It’s a sunny day in Nags Head, North Carolina – 86 degrees.
I’m back at the three-level rental house after spending a blissful morning and early
afternoon sitting on my little chair under my beach umbrella on the shore of
the Atlantic Ocean. While there, I read, completed a Sudoku puzzle, wrote in my
book journal, snacked, people-watched, and nodded off. The decompression had
started.
I’m here two more days; an unexpected treat. My daughter
and her friends are enjoying beach week at this house and wherever else they’re
hanging out. While planning a few months ago, they discovered they needed
an adult to rent the place and to be responsible for it. After a slew of emails
was dispersed among all the potential responsible adults, the six girls agreed
to give up one of the four bedrooms to a series of three moms, which was nicely
secluded on the third level; hence, my little treat. I’m responsible adult #2.
When I leave on Friday, responsible adult #3 will take over.
Anyway, the Decompression…
May and June… Will these months ever calm down?! After my
youngest child graduates from college – maybe? I won’t bore you with the list of things I have to do for my kids, other peoples’ kids (which is reciprocal), friends, my
husband, and my parents, but will just say that it happens in abundance in May
and June. And this year included two funerals.
Right… the Decompression…
I am so relaxed and content. The beach girls and I are on
different schedules and don’t see much of each other, and that is perfectly
fine. I’m sure they feel the same.
The Quiet…
I am relishing it. There is no one to take care of. At home,
even when everyone’s gone, my sweet little epileptic dog is there: needing a
pill five times a day, needing a potty break, needing a walk, needing the ball
thrown to her. Here, at the moment, I’m sitting on the bed with my cup of tea
on the night table, Ellen on the TV. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a complete
show of hers; and actually, not seeing it now because I’m writing this blog
post, reflecting on the quiet.
Ping!
It’s a text from my friend back at home.
“What’cha doin’?”
“Sitting on the bed, relaxing,” I text to her.
(Back and forth we text for a couple minutes; she asks, I
answer.)
“Are you going to shop, nap, or see a movie?”
(She has suggestions for each activity.)
“Ohhh, I might go to the shopping center that’s close by.
But you know I don’t like to shop, so it would be a short trip, just to see the
area.”
Then she asks, “Does it feel strange to be alone?”
(I can tell that she doesn’t get it. Maybe you don’t either.)
“No,” I text back, as I laugh out loud.
(I feel that I need to explain my weirdness, so I send
another text.)
“I can be such a recluse sometimes,” with a smiley face
emoji.
(Actually, I’m not weird. I simply enjoy solitude.)
When I worked for corporate America twenty-one years ago and
beyond, I joined my co-workers in taking personality tests and playing
personality games. One game had us walking around to each other to write on
paper that was attached to our backs; a word that we thought described the person’s
personality type. Once the fun chaos was over, we pulled the paper from our
backs to see what others in the group thought of us.
Initially interesting, eventually
annoying, these tests were supposed to aid in improving our work environment,
career development, and company productivity. I understood the intent; however,
it always seemed to end with people sizing each other up. I learned to reject
labels on myself; too confining.
But recently, a personality
book caught my attention. It’s called, Quiet:
The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. I liked the
inclusion of the words power and quiet in the title, along with introvert, a word that seems to have a
negative connotation. These words together and the contents of the book, made me
reconsider my ban on personality tests and literature. I doubt that I’ll ever
take another personality test; however the book is multifaceted and enlightening.
I never thought introvert was a bad label, but I
didn’t readily embrace it. This trip and things that I’m reading in this
book, however, are telling me to own it! I’ve
confirmed that introvert and shy are not necessarily synonymous. And I’ve realized
that I don’t have to apologize for not
missing my husband or children if they’re away or if I’m away. (This little
trip might inspire me to pack my bags more often.)
I am an introvert… most of the time.
Epilogue:
In addition to beach time, I visited the sand dunes at
Jockey's Ridge State Park. Ever since I saw a picture of blog friend
Abby's trip to the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado, I've kept the fascinating image in my mind. Who knew that I'd have the experience in North Carolina! I also spent time at the
Wright Brothers National Memorial, another nature-girl thing to do.
Sand Dunes at Jockey's Ridge State Park
Wright Brothers National Memorial
Care to share things about your personality or temperament? Do you spend time alone?