You know what’s weird (besides Leap Day)? I think I’m becoming an introvert. I know, I know...those of you who have known me for more than, let’s see, 30 seconds are probably snorting liquid out your noses right now at the suggestion. Believe me, it’s tripping me out too. Me, an introvert? Me, the one who loves all kinds of people and their stories, who is perfectly comfortable in a crowd, throws big parties, loves a good gabfest with friends and will happily start chatting with complete strangers? The one who’s trying to create a social movement around claiming one’s authentic, true freakiness and broadcasting it to the world? Please to explain, I hear you saying (or perhaps sputtering, if you haven’t gotten the nose-liquid thing under control). Ok, let me present the evidence for my outrageous claim:

1) I spend a lot of time at home, by myself, doing solitary things like staring into my computer or iPad, or puttering around the house in a never-ending effort to control the clutter that threatens to invade every surface. Ever since we downsized (and finally let go of) our entrepreneurial efforts at running a small business last year, I don’t go to an office anymore, and I don’t go out to client meetings or networking events. Especially since the beginning of the year, I’ve been increasingly serious about the pursuit of my creative dreams, including devoting large chunks of daily time to my writing (though apparently not blogging, I hear you say. Ok, fine, you got me there. Now stop poking and pay attention.) Writing, as I’m sure is stunningly obvious, is generally a solitary activity. It requires dedicated chunks of time, quiet (or at least no un-chosen audio distractions), focus and lots of checking Twitter and Facebook staring off into space. If it wasn’t for my kids and their activities, my occasional volunteer activities or the need for groceries and self-care appointments, I might spend days in a row here in the same couple of rooms, just me and the computer (and now, the cat, because every writer needs a cat). Ok, yeah, Josh is often here too, but he’s usually staring at his own computer. And I’ve grown accustomed to that. I like it. I like my house (unless it’s especially messy) and my computer and my writing time. Sometimes I get irritated when I have to leave and go do other things, even the ones that are fun.

2) I’m having an increasingly hard time with communication, e.g. using the phone or responding to even the relatively reduced amount of email I get. I used to be really good about proactively reaching out to friends and family, checking in and making plans, but these days, I often put it off or at least don’t prioritize it. Relationship management is overwhelming now in a way that it didn’t use to be, or at best it’s a lot less attractive to me. Even Facebook interactions (which used to be a great “quick hit” of connection and catch-up with my various networks) are sometimes so overwhelming that I ignore social media for days at a time.

3) Too many nights in a row of having people over or going out makes me vaguely cranky rather than inspired and energized. I still love having friends and family over, and gaming and book group and women’s group and date nights and seeing live performances and going to cons and such, but if I do it too often, I’m more exhausted than energized by it.

So what’s going on here? Maybe it’s not so much that I’m changing my inherent internal orientation (because I truly do still like me the people and especially the talking with said people), but more that I’m moving into a particular phase of my life where inward-facing activities are becoming more prominent (and more desirable) than outward-facing activities. Maybe I’m just getting old. :)

Or maybe I was always this way--after all, I spent a LOT of my childhood off reading somewhere--but got so much positive feedback from employing my mad people skillz (which, she says modestly, are pretty awesome) that I suppressed my natural introvert tendencies, or just let them sort of atrophy. Maybe I’m still grappling with self-care issues, and the whole oxygen-mask theory of pleasing myself first before I worry about pleasing other people. Maybe this urge towards introverted activities is in part just a reclaiming of parts of myself that I used to own more openly, in an effort towards balance. Balance is a constantly shifting target, and “pausing” is a valid part of practice and my intentional life design, as I’ve already talked about.

Ultimately, I’d like to think that I don’t have to choose one side or the other, extrovert or introvert, but that I can have both, and that I *will* have both. I’m starting to see the long view now, and realize that this “introvert” thing *is* probably just a phase; the pendulum will swing back to “extrovert” eventually (I love people and conversations way too much to leave it for long), and probably continue to swing back and forth for the rest of my life. For now, though, I’m willing to stay solipsistic and continue to explore the pleasures of an introvert’s life, and stop feeling guilty about it—because spending time by myself on things that please me is totally appropriate self-care, just like spending time with other people in a way that pleases me has also been self-care for much of my life.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another novel chapter to go write!