On being Shy, Introvertism, and Yoga

Being an introvert, like having any other personality trait, brings with it its flaws and its recompenses. On a plus side, I enjoy my own company. I don't get depressed on an evening at home alone, simply because I am alone. I enjoy the time to reflect and think and do exactly what I want to do, even if that means going to bed at a time your grandmother is probably still watching Coronation Street, just so I can read for an hour whilst soaking in the warmth of my luscious electric blanket. I'll also use that time to watch the Youtube videos I wouldn't want anyone else to see me watching (for example last night I watched one about how to dye your hair with plants, and tonight was a Baby Spice make-up tutorial for a 90's-themed disco I'm going to on Saturday.) It's the kind of thing that if Max had been home, would have sent him dashing upstairs to play his game on the computer.

I also use alone-time to cultivate my creativity. I'll experiment with some baking or cooking, and since no-one is home to partake of the finished result, I'll worry less about the result and more about enjoying the process. Hands up who else finds baking and cooking rather therapeutic when it's done this way! I'll play my guitar, perhaps write some new songs, try recording some stuff on my marvellous Yeti microphone, flick through Pinterest for some fresh ideas for my next painting, work on my novel... and sometimes I'll write in my journal and spend some time in prayer and meditation, which always makes me feel so great afterwards, but can only be done when I'm in a particular frame of mind.

Something I'm enjoying immensely just now is my daily yoga practice. I'm following a free 30-day course on Youtube. Every day is different. Some days the poses and stretches are harder than others, and some days I feel more motivated and raring to go, while other days I feel that I would rather clean a thousand toilets and eat oysters than get on the yoga mat.

Yet yoga is wonderful for many reasons. If I am honest, my first reason for wanting to take it up again was to help shed post-Christmas excess, and to tame those wobbly wotsits that stubbornly wot-sit around my lower-half. Also, work was becoming a little stressful (as work is unfortunately wont to do from time to time), and I have always found that when I am regularly doing yoga, I feel a little less stressed, more grounded, and enjoy having that time for myself when I can simply focus on me in the middle of a sometimes busy and chaotic - yet beautiful - life.

Yoga can be hard for two main reasons. First, it can hurt. It's not meant to cause strain and injury like cardio sports, for example, but it does challenge and stretch you (pardon the pun) as it works on core strength, endurance, balance and agility. For the first few days of taking it up again, I was sore every other day for about a week. My muscles simply weren't used to the exertion. It seems that running around a large school building after children with more energy than a Snickers bar inside an erupting volcano is not enough to prepare my abdominal muscles for the downward-facing dog, the lizard-pose and all different positions that are either named after animals or sound like something you might say under your breath whilst sneezing.

The other reason that yoga can be hard is that you need to keep your mind focused. Something that in today's fast-paced society is extremely challenging. We're always planning ahead, doing one thing whilst our mind is already on what we'll be doing in an hour's time, or we're constantly juggling several things at once, and having our attention sought from multiple sources. Plus there's the added distraction and pressure of keeping on top of social media, our e-mails, our Whatsap messages and our Facebook group chats. I mean, we couldn't possibly enjoy a simple coffee date with a friend, without having to post a million pictures on Instagram before our coffee's even arrived. Social media has become the third-wheel at every social occasion. We still believe he's a friend, but he's a very needy one, and he takes up a lot of our time and energy.

But I digress. I wanted to talk to you about being shy, and the discomfort found in being a social introvert. As I stated at the beginning, as an introvert I love my alone time. It replenishes me, re-energises me, and rejuvenates me. It floods me with new creativity and keeps me sane in a crazy world. But at the same time, like consuming too much of a food you enjoy, too much leaves me with a bad-taste in my mouth, a sore stomach, and a yearning for something completely different. Too much solitude breeds a strong desire for connection and companionship. I long to come out of my head (which is quite often where an introvert finds themselves) and to spend time with loved ones, or even people I hardly know, just so as I can feel connected to something greater than myself.

It must be one of the world's greatest conundrums. Being a social introvert is like an oxymoron; they don't seem to go together. Yet in my case, they do. Just like I crave alone time, I crave time with other people. Some of my happiest moments are spent having fun with people I love.

I do believe as introverts we have so much to offer the world. We're the thinkers, the philosophers, the dreamers; the ones who worry so much about the state of the planet and our human condition. Sometimes we think too much. Sometimes we're plagued with anxieties and depression and obsessions. Our inner-world can make us feel heavy. And seeking out connection can make us feel scared.

We're scared of being rejected for being 'too much' or 'too emotional'. We're scared that others will notice our tendency to withdraw or shy away (although not all of us are shy by nature) and that they will reject us because of it.

I am so blessed to have a wonderful partner, who understands me and my withdrawn moments. He's there for me when I need to feel close and connected, too, in a way I think you only can with a partner. Love is like liquid-essence for your soul. But if we don't have a partner, we can find love in so many other ways. It's everywhere, if only we look for it. Really, inter-connection is all about experiencing and giving love. Without love, I do wonder what we'd have, or be.

We are all interconnected and need each other in ways we could never even imagine. It's my opinion that you learn the most about yourself when it is reflected back through another; whether that's through your significant other, a parent, sibling, friend or even someone who has it out for you. We need to socialise. We need to learn from each other, support each other, comfort each other, and share in one another's joy and sadness.

But as an introvert, I worry in social situations. I worry what you're thinking about me whilst I engage in conversation with you. Are you judging the way I talk? Do you really like me? Am I coming across as too shy? And this barrage thoughts which actually have the effect I'm worried about; I'll feel like shutting down and shying away, and you'll probably notice. You'll think about how quiet I can be, and about how nervous I can come across. If only it was easy for me to effortlessly express everything that went on inside.

Sometimes I can. Sometimes I can dance and shout with you, and I feel no fear. These are wonderful moments. There are no reservations in my heart. I feel free. When these moments come, I feel like the sun is shining and I am truly alive. I can have amazing conversation and I feel bold and strong and worthy of taking up the space that I do.

Other times, I don't feel worthy of taking up space. I worry about stepping on other people's toes. I know a lot of this comes down to the way I was brought up (see previous post) as I still, to this day, struggle to feel good enough. It's in these moments that I lose my voice, and I stutter, and I feel heavy and too much.

Luckily I have my art. I can sing. I can write. I can paint. I've always got a voice, but sometimes you don't hear it, because I am speaking inside. I think that's what an introvert is. Someone who lives from the inside-out.