The Beauty of Simplicity
As an introvert, part of the beauty of a solo trip is to retreat into my head and limit interaction with others as much as possible, but over the years I’ve met some fascinating people. This trip was no exception.
As an introvert, part of the beauty of a solo trip is to retreat into my head and limit interaction with others as much as possible, but over the years I’ve met some fascinating people. This trip was no exception.
I’ve been traveling for 11 wonderful days. My solo adventure showed me a way of living that I want to integrate into my “real life” routine.
I’ve always thought about my introverted wiring as limiting, and something I had to overcome. I’ve felt like there is something wrong with me, and the only possible solution would be to become more extroverted, because that’s the ideal–right?
It’s so easy to give into the weight of overwhelm. It’s one of my default emotions, and never part of an intentional response. But I've finally discovered the key to changing the way you feel in almost every situation.
I began doing something tragic over ten years ago. I started shelving my dreams and some of the things I loved most, pushing essential parts of myself deep down inside. I did it because I thought I had no choice. I didn’t know what I know now.
I tend to be guilty of trying to think positively and find the silver lining right away, but I’ve realized that in situations like this, it’s so important to let myself just feel sad. To sit inside the sadness until it teaches me what I'm supposed to know.
Staying quiet can be more effective than fighting to be heard, and unexpected insight can arise from the person who has been actively listening, observing, and internally analyzing during a meeting.
I crave connection, and my wish to fly under the radar is the complete opposite of connection. I’m beginning to notice when my head contradicts my heart - and this happens a lot! - so I took a few moments to explore this and figure out exactly what was going on.
I am in the midst of a worthiness battle. This is a battle against myself and no one else, and in this moment I am winning.
In her new book Love Warrior, Glennon Doyle Melton writes, “Maybe some loves are perennials - they survive the winter and bloom again. Maybe others are annuals - beautiful and lush and full for a season and then back to the earth to die and create rich soil for new life to grow.”