Showing posts with label introvert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label introvert. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

You Say Be Patient - But I Do Not Think You Know What It Means

I have lived 54 years and 358 days. That's since I came out of the womb, so I 'lived' 9 months more than that. Well, depending on your point of view, I, as a soul within my body, probably lived a little less. But I digress, possibly a subject for a future blog.

In my 54+ years, I believe I have been extraordinarily patient. Oh sure, as a small child I probably pulled a few tantrums if I didn't get my way. But once I got used to that idea that not everything would go my way, I settled in and waited. I remember asking my sister to play with me, and she said 'in a minute.' Time didn't mean much to me at that age, but the bottom line was: if I wanted to play, I had to wait. I don't remember if she actually played with me, but given my record over the years, probably not. Most likely something else happened that took my mind away from playing, or, my imagination kicked in and I played with myself - not in a dirty way. Shame on you.

I have, what I believe is an uncanny ability to withdraw. My mother used to call say 'Don't go Walter Mitty on me' or something to that effect. I actually liked that movie - the original, not the remake. I could relate to Walter. When things got dull or I had to wait for something, I withdrew into my own little world. Literally. What bugs me about that is why I didn't write things down from the beginning. Maybe the thoughts were too private. Maybe I thought others would kid me about it. Yeah, that's probably it. I've always had a keen sense of what others thought of me.

But the point is, I'm patient. That's something that's being tried at the moment, so I wanted to dip into exactly what I've been patient about over the years.

The old saying 'Good things come to those that wait' has hit me at times, missed a lot more. When it came to girls I could never make the first move, and that's true even today. Even when I did get a date, something usually did or didn't happen to keep the romance flowing. A lot of that was lack of experience. A lot of that was that it takes time to get to know me, and it always seemed like I waited too long to open up, or something happened to tear us apart, like the girl moving away, or me moving away.

Let's put it this way: I admired girls from afar. It might have been creepy from a certain standpoint, but it was just me being me. I offer no ill will toward anyone - with the exception of bullies. I'll admit I got into fights as a kid because I saw or was dealt injustice and I bottled it up until I exploded. I can honestly say no one was seriously harmed in my fights, and I often got the worst of it: Glasses thrown off, a sweater ripped, etc.

But the simple fact was: I was too shy for my own good. That goes beyond being introverted.

I did have one meaningful relationship in my life, in college. She came to me. It produced a daughter. I won't go into details, but the relationship ended. The breakup sorely tested my patience. I couldn't finish my Bachelor's Degree because of the loss of that relationship. It had too profound an affect on me.

So without more than an Associate's degree, I spent years wandering. I went from job to job, from place to place, leaving a job when it was the right time for me, then getting a different job.

I have been a contract programmer for a small company, a file clerk for an insurance company, a slot technician in Las Vegas (after taking an electronics course at a small 'college'), a store clerk in Springfield Mass., a computer operator for a couple of different firms, a salesperson for Radio Shack, an usher for the Colorado Rockies, Broncos, Nuggets and Avalanche, a data entry operator for a Ma Bell company, a COBOL programmer for the same company, all in the space of 15 years.

The list goes on, but the point is I was trying to find what I was good at that I enjoyed. At the same time I was observing different cultures, right here in the Good Ol' USA. I was noticing changes in accents, mannerisms that varied from region to region and how people dressed and generally acted around each other.

I didn't know I was a writer until 1996, when a story came to me so strongly that I felt the need to put pen to paper for the first time. Maybe I'd been preparing myself all those years. I don't know. They say artists have to suffer for their work. What if you don't know you're an artist? I thought I was just a poor loner who was doomed to wander for the rest of his life.

Don't get me wrong. I'm good at a lot of things. Even though I hate anything having to do with phones, I have a pleasant speaking voice and demeanor. So customer service and now technical support were my calling after 2000.

And, of course, computers themselves call out to me. I'm an introverted nerd/geek who can sit for hours in front of a computer, either playing games or typing in general. I've built several of my own computer systems, even thought about going into business custom-building computers - called 'Foxbuilt Computers.' Like all of my other endeavors, it never materialized, but that has never stopped ideas from coming into my head.

Which leads us back to being patient. In all the different jobs I've done, all the different people I've met, I have yet to feel like I've accomplished my given task.

Of course the problem there is I don't know what the given task is. I've written about this before, and it's a major principle of 'Regrets,' and of the song I wrote, aptly named: 'The Job's Not Done.' My song 'Free' speaks of a restless soul, trying to break free.

Yet here I am, sitting in front of my computer, typing this blog, seemingly no closer to my unstated goals than ever.

And here then, is the story of my life: I have been waiting, patiently for the thing I'm supposed to accomplish to happen.

You might say: "But Michael, that's your problem all along. You're not ambitious enough or straightforward enough do be much good to anyone."

To which I might say: "To thine own self be true." I may not be an ambitious money-grubber, willing to walk over anyone in my path. Let's take the 'may' out of that. That's not who I am. I've had the feeling that I've trodden this path before, lived another life before, and I'm willing to bet that I waited for something then too, because the job I'm tasked to do is likely one that will take more than one lifetime.

So if you call yourself patient because you waited in a line for a half-hour, please bear me in mind, who has been patient for lifetimes.

Friday, October 11, 2013

A New Venture...or Adventure?

A few days back I posted a blog where I basically said I'd had it with customer service. Out of that blog, comes a new venture. 'I Choose Not To Talk,' which is an organization where I want to highlight the differences between extroverts vs introverts.
There is a website, which needs work, a youtube site (see above), and an Indiegogo page, asking for donations.

There's even a blog just for that, at ichoosenottotalk.wordpress.com.

That's all. You may go about your business. I've done my job here, the rest will be done elsewhere!

Thanks for reading!

Saturday, September 29, 2012

The Evolution of My Sanity

I was bored the other day and started looking at my blog archives. When I started this blog I was working for Alpine Access, from home. I didn't get out much because it was cold and I was poor. But I was working, and playing, and writing (Oh My!).

The first blogs were me explaining myself, my personality, a little about my job and a little about my gaming. Then things started getting serious as I became homeless for the first time in 5 years.

I realized that I have not had a 'permanent' home since 2010. I've lived outside the shelter for short periods. But I haven't had a place to call my own in that long.

Maybe that's for the best for me. I've found if I'm too comfortable then I don't want things to change. And I DO want things to change. I want my writing to be 'discovered' and paid for. I want my videos to be 'discovered' and generate ad income. I want - in short - for people to discover me, and that is what bothers me the most - not that I haven't been discovered so much but that I'd WANT to be discovered.

I've been an introvert my entire life. I don't even know how anyone can be anything but an introvert or an extrovert, but apparently it's possible for some people to switch between worlds. But the point is, I'd like nothing better than to be alone for the better part of my life. But sadly for me, unless you inherit money, and I didn't, you gotta work to pay the bills, or live off the land, which I'm definitely not suited for.

I've read articles on good jobs for introverts. Computer programmer came up. I've tried that. Unless you're writing apps in the privacy of your home, you still have to report to someone.

Self promotion has always been hard for me. Yet I can still force myself to
appear eager during an interview. I hate being forced to do anything. Promotion for writing, however, is another tale, and I can attest that writing is the hardest field for an introvert like me to break into. Not the writing part. That's easy for an introvert. What's hard is the schmoozing that takes place when you're trying to sell your  work.

'If you build it, they will come...' Oh how I wish that were true. Oh how I wish I could just plug all my writing down, oh, say, in a blog, and people would flock to it. Some people make a living blogging. I make pennies a day. I guess what I need are interesting things to say, or images of cats in cute positions.

I love cats but I won't exploit them - much.

I'm at a crossroads here. I have so many things I'd like to do, so many people I'd like to help. And in the process help myself. I've been reading successful blogs, wanting to know what makes them successful. It helps to be famous already. I'm tempted to make use of my name (Michael Fox for those that don't know) and feed off of people who think I'm the actor.

I'm rambling now, aren't I? This is how my mindset works. One idea comes into my head for a minute, then goes out the ears the next, replaced by a different idea. 'Normal' people have no idea how this works. 'Crazy' comes to mind. But as the name of the blog insists, I'm sane.

How do I know this? Well, I'm not certified if that's what you mean. I've never even talked to a psychiatrist. I know I'm sane because I read about insane people, and I see crazier people than I'll ever be every day. I'm sane because they're not. They give me a good sense of what the extreme is. I don't even think I'm borderline crazy. I'm frustrated as hell, but not crazy.

What's the point of this blog? You tell me!

/rant