Introversion – fifteen


‘So what do you want to be
when you grow up?’



When I was a child, I always felt this immense pressure to perform. The ‘me’ I was supposed to be had an answer on the tip of his tongue programmed into him.

Being of eastern culture, we have this overwhelming propensity to respect our parents wishes and to work hard to fulfil their aspirations for us. ‘Us’, or ‘me’ in the equation is constructed carefully to suit the ideals and standards of the community and demographics they (parents) represent.

My answer had been carefully selected for me. What higher honour could one have than to be a doctor?

Doctor, Doctor, Doctor…… doctor……doct …..doc….tock……tick…..tock….tick….tock

Fast forward to thirty eight years of age, I am not a doctor. I learned many things along the way, studied a variance of the science, even studied mechanical engineering but I had to find out through my skin and soul that I did not want to be boxed in to anything. How could I when music, art and words were boiling in a cauldron pot inside me. How could I when I could see the expressions on peoples faces change, when I could see their bodies upright when they saw, heard or read something they liked? That exchange was far more interesting.

How do you tell a parent that thinks life is the sweat of their brow that the nights you spent up to three am staring at an equation was just because YOU enjoyed it, not because you had high aspirations of being a medical prowess? They just don’t get it.

We suffocate our children with expectations. We place large burdens on them because we mostly don’t have the foresight and character culture to know what we want let alone what they want.

Not me……

I tasted that and won’t push that on to my children.

Admittedly, I ask my children what they want to be all the time. My question is not preloaded with an expectation though. My question is loaded with love and genuine curiosity to see where their minds are at because I am interested in their version of ‘ME’. I want to know at every moment what tree their souls sit under waiting for the apple to drop but I don’t care if it’s a pear that drops instead, heck I don’t care if it’s a watermelon or just a leaf.

My kids are mostly introverted, they enjoy their solitude and are comfortable being on their own, doing things without the need for people but are perfectly comfortable in groups as well.

We must get out of our heads the need to force an outlandish socialisation factor on children. They don’t have to be vivaciously social and extrovertly animated in public. They don’t have to be the life of the party and play all team sports if they don’t want to. It’s ok to be shy, it’s actually the foundation of manners and respect. Reserving ones self to the benefit of others is called chivalry and it begins with silence, withdrawal and reservation in ones speech. These are not traits to look down on but rather to encourage.

Builder, gun engineer, racing car driver, burger shop owner, mother, ballerina, Russian, and the best one…. Viking, their answers change all the time. Babies, whatever you become, you will always be mine.



Introversion – fourteen


Leave some you,
for you.

Unlike extroverts and this is not to generalise and bucket everyone to groups, but introverts need their space, they need their time alone they need to be able to recluse inside themselves to feel alive again.

If they are deprived this, they can feel drained and there are plenty of outside influences, mostly people who aptly hold the title of drainer. They demand to know your every detail. Fine for some people, for extroverts who may like flaunting, but we’re mostly reserved.

The paradox is, both introverts and extroverts gain the most personal gratification by going outside themselves and being of servitude to others.

For extroverts, it causes them to internalise and focus on the finer things putting them in touch with a side of themselves they don’t visit often.

For introverts, they see far more worth in meaningful exchanges but in contradiction, they have to be a little extroverted to perform tasks of servitude to others. Give them a room full of excited and happy people, rich and famous who want to be around them and they will probably shy away. Give them a meaningful conversation with an unknown, full of depth and sensitivity and they bathe in satisfaction.

It’s a win win situation. Get more YOU time, the secret is to be of servitude in a meaningful way. The internal dividends are the YOU time, immeasurable.

At the same time, one has to be wary of people who just leech on you for their own personal gain without reciprocation or an imbalanced and abnormal demand to be involved in your every affair.

Khalil Gibran said it best:

On Marriage

“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

Introversion – thirteen


We have a fetish for solitude


You’re not lonely enough until you’ve slummed in it for so long that the loneliest you can be is around people.

At that point, people are dead; you may as well attend their funeral en masse and pray for them.

Wear your black dress forever for humanity.

Sprinkle dirt dust on all their faces as you pass them by, they’re dead anyway and they won’t know what it means.

So they’ll fight you not realising their mother earth just caressed them, calling them back from the dead and to the living.

A noble sage once said, ‘People are asleep and when they die, they awaken.’


Introversion – twelve



You taunt me to come out of my shell and  join the parade,
Pull away from my book, my mind, to the world of masquerades.

I struggle, you see, I haven’t yet mastered the art of lies,
I can’t remove my filters, serenade your discomfort and look into your eyes.

I can’t join the circus, disturbing is the cacophony of noise,
I can’t listen to it, believe it, and remain with poise.

Inevitably, I chime in, into the conversation I’ll dive,
But your world is shallow, I’m afraid of drowning in your blithe.

That’s the tragedy, the lamb to the slaughter,
We’re all diving heedlessly but their is no water.



It’s not that I can’t be bothered, it’s because I am afraid of hitting my head at the bottom of the shallow pool of a world you live in.

I’d engage, if you could for once talk about something of substance.
I don’t want to meet God with a shopping list, a bargain bonanza nor a scroll of ‘he said she said’. The cloth I will be buried in only houses my body.



Introversion – eleven


Introverts are very flirtatious…..
with themselves

Wouldn’t you love to know what we say to ourselves, how we spoil ourselves, how we look forward to the smaller, finer things.

Whilst you need the attention of the world and everyone to notice you, perhaps endless caressing and consoling before you can be enticed, you’d be happy to know we’d spend a whole afternoon in foreplay with ourselves, walking back home after a long day at work, building up excitement to the fact we’re about to fire up our brain cells and have them tingling on end with excitement. The activity? A lonesome book we found at the second hand book store on our lunch break.

We carefully deal out the teases to our own minds, the slow build up, the tender suggestions until it’s time and you may as well burn the house down, tucked away in our corner, eyes staccato across the pages, eyelashes kissing each other in signal for a page turn, lips salivating waiting for the next line, and breath heavy as our chests heave in excitement as nothing but ink on a page lures us into the dragons lair of lustful engagement with ourselves.

No, we’re not infatuated with ourselves, we just feel a little more, we just pay attention to our inner voices, we nurture them lovingly without need for psychoanalysis and stigmas from quacks, we’re humans, we live and breath the soul of all humans….we’re readers.


The Elixir 6 – Inner gravity

the elixir6

My introversion is just my inner world having a much stronger gravitational pull than what the outside world can offer. I find it strange that humans feel comfortable making others uncomfortable. If their own comfort were to be disturbed, their claws come out. But your claws are lame compared to what we have inside us ready to burst out in rage.

If you want me to join you in company, your pull better be stronger than mine. Selfish you may call it, I beg to differ, I call it resourceful.

You see, I don’t like wasting time, the mundane interests me not. I don’t need an icebreaker or to warm to the conversations, I’ll dive into them whole but that filter is non existent with me, so you’ll hear nothing but barbaric truth.

In your world, that’s difficult to swallow as you swim, no bathe in the swamp of shallowness.

You don’t have the pull to lure me away from my world, so lest you want to hear things that are uncomfortable, best you let me be.

Don’t prod at me, don’t pass your comments without thought as my tongue is a whip, with a blade on it dipped in poison. I can cut at you in more ways a samurai can teach his pupil.

It’s ok, don’t feel sorry for me, look down on me if it makes you comfortable, rise up to hate if needs be, just be sure that when you’re done and you look around that you have someone else as shallow as you to lean on as I will be long vanished, reclused back in my world, long gone as your world is as empty and gravitation-less as space.