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Category: Introvert

Introvert Me

Introvert Me

I may not speak, but I’m listening and seeing.  I hear all that the people around me are saying.  Discussing.  I see their laughter and how they can smile and talk at the same time.  I hear their words.  I see them on their faces and in their hearts and I’m happy for them.  I admire how easily words come to them.  How quickly.  I admire their wit.  For me the words and the wit will come when the room is empty or perhaps by morning, too late, for now there’s no one to listen.  It’s okay.

The ones who take the time to get to know me will experience them, because they know me and understand.  They’ll wait.  They’ll check in.  They’ll give me their words in their time and I’ll give them mine when I can.

I can’t always speak at the moment I need to, because my brain doesn’t work like that.  I drink in moments with all of my senses. If I speak my thoughts, will it add or subtract from this moment?  I’m not putting words to those questions.  They’re just there, in the background.  It’s as if my words, at the moment, are in a language I haven’t yet learned and I’m trying to find them and assemble them before the moment has passed and it’s too late.  For me it is often too late.

I am an introvert, but I love people.  Crowds and noisy places overwhelm me.  If I had some quiet time before hand, I’m okay, because I need people and I have to go out into the world to find them.  I need conversation.  Not the kind that’s like a stone skipping across a pond, with each skip a new topic. I love conversation that explores and dives in, daring to reveal experienced emotions and revelations.

Even though I’m content with my solitude, I recognize the joy of spending time with another human being.  As someone who is slow to speak and slow to judge, still I do speak.  I can converse.  But I must feel safe and heard.  Still, I’m okay with just sitting quietly and listening.

If I’m spending time with you and the words are flowing from me freely, it’s because I trust you. This is something that takes time. Congratulations. You did what few have done.

I need people, but one at a time is best.  For me, there is nothing finer.  Time with a friend is more precious to me than gold or gems.  Such moments are treasures and are tucked away in my heart for a long time.  Even introverts can become profoundly lonely.

Meow

Wearing a few hats today

Wearing a few hats today

Today, a Tuesday, I’m doing graphics (making seat numbers for today’s concert), teaching an art class, and selling drinks at a concert (same concert). Because I’m an introvert, I’m trying to think of where I can sneak a nap into the schedule. I’d also like to find time to eat. If I eat at the 19th Hole Restaurant like…right now…oh! I’ll be back later.

Alone in a Crowd

Alone in a Crowd

You can be in the midst of a crowd and yet still be alone.

I’ve struggled with the writing of this post. Perhaps I’m over thinking it. But maybe its very important to me, so I’m searching for the right words to relay the story. Or maybe I’m just more visual and words elude me. Don’t know.

My travel trailer travels. Its meant to go places and its like a gigantic suitcase. Everything I need is inside. In fact, everything I own is in my RV and my truck. This is my way of being a homeowner. A very tiny home owner. Not me…tiny. The home.

There can be hundreds of campsites and cabins at a campground. Some places are for people who leave their RV there all the time. Camp whenever. Some are people who have a temporary job in the area and this is home for the duration of the job. Others are here for a vacation or weekend getaway. Then there are a those who are just passing through.

One moment the place can be nearly empty (well, not completely – I’m here).

Empty
Full

Okay. What I’m trying to get at is the fact that I, like all the others here, am in an RV of some sort. Mine is a travel trailer. I pull it with a medium large truck. The color of my truck doesn’t match my RV. I’m not on vacation, but sometimes I do vacation-like things. The RVs that come and park beside me for a night or two are usually occupied by at least two people and are just passing through, on their way somewhere else. They’re like a small collective. In the evening they sit outside their “rig” in camp chairs, chatting quietly, thinking, or taking in the view. They spend a lot of time away from the campground sight-seeing, shopping, or visiting friends in the area. Sometimes I do those things, too. Often I make the mistake of thinking that I can do the sightseeing next time I’m in the area. That’s something I want to work on.

My Library
My Office
My Kitchen

My RV life is all the time and mostly its an ordinary life, but in a smaller space. I still have a few books, art supplies, favorite cups and mugs, a summer wardrobe, a winter wardrobe, and a variety of cat toys. There is only one compartment that can be accessed from outside. Its pretty full, but well organized. I have a few tools, a bin of sewer hoses, a couple of water hoses, and some power adapter for converting power from 30 to 15 or 50 to 30. Right now the heated hose, for winter, is stowed in there. I’m using the summer hose and the small ten foot extension hose. I parked six feet too far from the water outlet for my main hose to reach.

Another thing I need to work on is the fact that most of my time is spent inside. I don’t usually go swimming or participate in activities like bingo or hayrides. When I get cabin fever, I jump in my truck and go to town. When I’m in my RV, I watch shows on TV (streaming), play a game on my computer (Minecraft or Guildwars 2), cook or bake, read, write in my journal, write a post for my blog, work on an art project, and sleep. My favorite meal of the day is breakfast. I might only be eating a bowl of cereal and drinking a cup of coffee, but I can make that last until lunch time. I might have to warm up my cup of coffee five times before I finished my cereal. I just enjoy the leisure of that time. No rush. The smell of the coffee brewing is a bit nice, too.

When I’m in a campground, I’m sort of one of the crowd, but I don’t think being alone in a crowd has to be a bad thing. For a long time I wanted to fit in, but that wasn’t the answer either. I march to the beat of my own drum.

February 26th, 2022 – Saturday afternoon

February 26th, 2022 – Saturday afternoon

Yes, I made this 🙂

When I moved to York, Pennsylvania, I did it on a whim. Arriving with what fit in a 4×6 U-Haul trailer, over the past year and a half I’ve moved to a second apartment, acquired possessions, and made a life for myself. Most of what I own came from a second hand shop on Carlisle. A few things were in boxes and required serious assembling. Each time I purchased something I had to ask myself if the accumulation of yet another possession would make it necessary for me to remain in one place. Having little, as before, made it easy to travel and move about. I loved that part of my life and miss it more than I have words to describe.

I often have little arguments with myself concerning my tomorrows and my nexts. I’ll probably have more tomorrows, but what will they look like? Unplanned bills keep cropping up. Dental work. Cataract surgery. Can I be more thrifty? Continue working at minimum wage jobs? What do I WANT to do when my current lease runs out? Stay? Have I settled in too much, making a move more difficult? I convince myself I’d probably better stay put. Then a couple days later I’m drooling at the sight of a travel trailer or the thought of getting to visit friends and family again, taking my cat and my own bed. My turtle shell. Its nice getting to visit people. I love it. Yet I love having my own little turtle shell to rest and recharge in. So my little arguments never get resolved, because both sides of it are good.

My life is like my refrigerator

My fridge contains Greek yogurt, organic milk, homemade apple butter, organic eggs, a casserole, Mission BBQ leftovers (salmon and half a chicken), a variety of teas, spinach, brussels sprouts (did you know its spelled like that – I didn’t), and Pepsi. I suppose it represents my desire to eat healthy, sensibly, to succeed quite often, yet fail all in the same day. So my life goes. Trying to do the right things. Exercise. Lose weight. Get plenty of sleep. Earn a little money to save a bit or spend on surprise bills.

I have two rooms. I’m kind of sandwiched between apartments above, below, and on two sides. I like that. The windows are very drafty, so the more walls that don’t face the outside the better. My floor looks like a big patchwork quilt. The lease states that tenants must cover the majority of the floor and it helps insulate.

The cat’s room

My half of the room (yeah, right)

The other end of the room is my computer room and art room, kind of. I separate the two spaces with a tri-fold partition. In just the short time I’ve been here, I’ve rearranged things several times. Most of the time its because of the cat (Sophia). She demonstrates how clever she is. Curtains have been pulled down half a dozen times. Anything on any flat surface (no matter how high) is fair game. In her eyes all things are toys or places to explore. I’m teaching her that the art table is my domain. I know she gets it. She just choses not to remember. I invited her to nap on the top shelf of my art cart and she likes that.

Sophia aspires to be an artist, too. While studying pens and colored pencils at this time, she hasn’t decided how she’ll fit paper clips into her projects. Perhaps after a nap, it’ll come to her.

The other room (you can see the closed door) is the bedroom. Its very small and gets very cold, so I keep the door closed on winter evenings.

The kitchen is in the main room and its the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever had, even though its quite small. The cupboards don’t go all the way to the ceiling, so I put my prints up there and light them up with strings of white lights. The view warms my heart and cheers me. I don’t have room to store the prints, so displaying them up above works very well. No one will ever see them anyways. I have no way to sell them and no one comes to my apartment. So it works good to have them where they are. I enjoy them.

I Made Pudding…reposted from my old website “Travels With Einstein”

I Made Pudding…reposted from my old website “Travels With Einstein”

Grey Nomad

I’ve been a nomad for the past three years; a grey nomad. Traveling the country in a travel trailer and then a motorhome. It was a glorious time and it was shared by Einstein, my Golden Retriever. The words that follow are from my travel blog. I’m not a nomad right now, but who knows. I have wanderlust and it remains to be seen whether or not I can be content with life on firm foundation.

Do not go gentle into that good night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

By Dylan Thomas

Keeping in touch through social media

I read on Facebook about the special moments my children are experiencing with their children…memories they are living right now and that they will cherish always. As I read I remember my own times like that. There were achievements, performances, events where I witnessed them coming into their own, shaping themselves, living in the moment. I guess I long to have that all back…but it is gone and done. If I had lived just a generation earlier, I would be retired from a job, collecting a small pension, and sitting on the front porch waiting for something…I don’t know what. Life would belong to the young.

But I made pudding today..

I’ve asked no one to take this journey with me. In fact, I’ve intentionally needed to take it alone. I have needed quiet time to sit and reflect on what came before and what might come after. I want to think about how all the things I’ve done and experienced fit into what’s left of my time on the earth. When I drive along in the RV, miles of road before me, I want to see that road with my own eyes and feelings and impressions.

Whether I am able to muster up the courage to speak to a stranger, ask questions, ask advise, find out how their own path has gone out here on the road or behind the cash register or that counter…I want it to be because I wanted it. Right now I don’t want to consider anyone else’s opinion. I want to fit it all together by myself. When I come to an intersection, even if I had a plan at the start of the day, I want the freedom to change my mind and go left instead of right.

I’m ever mindful of the lessening of days in my life. Little aches and pains niggle at my mind and body, never letting me forget. This is my time and I’m letting it fall upon me quietly or loudly.

So today, on this Tuesday, I made pudding…because I wanted to.