Extrovert to Introvert

Growing up as a kid, being by myself was a punishment. My parents would send me to my room to process what I’d done wrong. No hitting. No yelling, just time alone. I was an extrovert. Isolation worked well. So, when I chose to become a writer, my family didn’t believe me at first. You know, that it was something I would stick to doing.

PROCESS

I started my book writing process with the most social form of writing I could find. Interviews. After spending six months transcribing them and another year reorganizing the order of my transcriptions into beautiful, sonorous realizations, I realized I had a bunch of unfinished thoughts about my own transformation.

In fact, I was winding down my evenings swiping through social media. Searching through apps on my iphone for some form of meaning or clarity or closure. It was none of those. I was lusting toward my past life. So in order to take control, I created what I was observing. I started this blog as an alternative. I gave myself a time limit--one hour to produce a legible piece of writing that helped me practice my craft, brain dump, and take inventory of my tiny successes.

I can’t say that at the onset of homemaker moonlighting as writer, I understood the atmospheric consequences of my journey. Being around people made me feel like I drank a double shot of caffeinated espresso. Every day. I received the majority of my energy from others. My biggest challenge was to slow down. To transform myself so that I could learn how to sustain enough energy from within to live in an introvert's world of quiet. The #Artoftransformation. I learned it. Then I learned to love it.

CHANGE STARTS SMALL

I took suggestions from wherever I could find them podcasts, books, experts (introverts in the reverse situation) and adopted small changes to my existing routine. I stopped listening to the radio in the car so that I had control over my thoughts. I had the correct number of lunch dates and coffee with girlfriends to balance the intrinsic art of writing. I knew myself or listened to others when I didn’t. I responded to my needs.

But when COVID hit, my cultivated world of silence changed and with it, so went my ability to produce. Not because there wasn't anything to write about, but because I had many more factors vying for my attention. And because my house has an open door policy, my brain was constantly intaking other people’s words and discussions and ideas. I became frustrated at my inability to have my own personal alone time, and lost one of my strongest virtues. Patience.

SEARCH FOR PERFECTION Because of my loss of quiet, I started searching for the perfect circumstances to work on my craft. I prepped myself with meditation and exercise like the mental athlete I've trained to be. But by the time I'd completed my preparation, my moment of alone time was gone. I couldn't get past the loudness of the interaction of family life that now surrounded me. I knew I wanted my family to see me accelerado beyond domestic life. But I couldn’t get around my situation. Like a game of chess, I quickly considered the perfect moment to write but I was always too tired or gave into a need to relax instead. Remember, I believe in balance.

LOCATING PRODUCTION TIME

Today, I have five minutes and I write best while under fire. You know, that moment when I feel like cussing and can only hear myself think. So, instead of putting on an outward show of frustration for everyone else. I take a step back, pull out my journal and start preparing a first draft of something I can later produce.

I could say, “this sucks.” And some days, I do. But finding new ways to motive myself is the journey I need to enjoy. Besides, this struggle is going to make the victory of book completion only sweeter.