“In the Dark, You Shall Find Yourself”
Reflecting on the Nature of Introversion and Extroversion
I was recently watching a podcast clip of David Goggins, you know that crazy ex-navy seal who goes around telling people to “Stay Hard!”? Yeah, the same one.
He mentioned something peculiar, something I have always resonated with and comforted me to hear,
“Cut off all the noise, all the social media, all the screens, and sit there by yourself. I call it the dark room. That’s where the real battle is. That’s where you’ll find yourself.”
In the Dark, You Shall Find Yourself.
It makes me think.
Recent trends in psychology have popularized terms like introversion and extroversion. Without any real understanding of the words, the social media generation often uses or rather exploits, those words.
If you don’t feel like pushing yourself and interacting with the right people, you are an “introvert,” and it’s fine to stay that way, even if it means compromising your growth.
On the contrary, if you love to be loud and obnoxious, and can’t sit still without making yourself the center of attention, you are an “extrovert”, and that’s fine, too, since, you know, your labels define your potential for growth.
I am using extreme examples, but you can all but notice the familiarity. I suggest striking a balance and recognizing the need to outgrow our weaknesses.
Balancing between Light and Dark
If I were to limit my disposition to a label, I would call myself an “introvert.” While I am extremely pleasant to be around during intimate and close gatherings, I get tired from those outings on the following day.
On the flip side, I am a natural performer, speaker, and host (even if I don’t feel inclined to act up), so I can’t stand it if I see someone else take the spotlight at a larger social call. We all have an amalgam of social as well as anti-social drives. How do we decide between the two?
Let me take a step back, sit in the dark room, and meditate on my predicament: Calling myself an “introvert” excuses me from opportunistic obligations that require talking more; calling myself an “ambivert” makes me bitter and resentful of other conspicuous entities.
The result is that I do not grow beyond basic psycho-social urges that are limiting my footsteps in the direction of a long journey called life.
Loneliness can be a powerful social tool, but only if you know when to abandon it and trust others. Companionship can be a powerful social tool, but only when you are self-reliant and independent.
Conclusions
When I started writing this piece, I thought I’d do a little op-ed on the power of loneliness since I am often inclined to avoid interacting with others. I love it, but it leaves me tired.
As you write, you ruminate, you think back, and you begin to perceive the need to create a balance between the anti-thetical extremes of one’s social inclinations.
Enter the dark room and discover your latent abilities to be lonely and companionable. Be a mercurial man who can be versatile and adapt to any predicament. That’s where true growth lies, wherever you feel discomfort.
As we began, in the dark, you shall find yourself.
Thank you for reading my story.
Here are the links to my recent stories for new readers.
Lamplight Rumination: As I Sit Here Writing in the Dark.
Wednesday: Tim Burton’s Spooky(er) Harry Porter Sequel
The First Draft: An Inner Monologue of Chaotic Thoughts that Precede Writing.
Book Review: Animal Farm through the Lens of an Apolitical, Common Reader
For professional collaborations, you may contact me on Upwork.
