The Best of the Best of the Best

I’ve been reading a book that I found in our joint Kindle library called “Quiet” by Susan Cain, which is about introverts and how powerful they can be. It perked my interest because a large part of me is introverted. I have written a post about this:

Inside My Head 

I wouldn’t say that I am fully introverted because, as the post above says, there is an extrovert inside of me. Apparently this makes me an ambivert – somebody who loves being the centre of attention sometimes but also craves isolation. I would say that I am more of an introvert (probably about 70%) and the book above kind of confirms that. It’s a very interesting read and I can see myself in it. 

The writer of the book claims that the world has become driven by extroverts and, being an introvert herself, finds it a challenge to thrive in such a world. The whole point of the book is to shine a light on what makes a person an introvert and how such a person can succeed and flourish. It's too late for me because I have retired and am very happy now that I don’t have to unleash the extrovert into the corporate world when required (even though I often did).

Do we live in a world driven by extroverts? 

I am not so sure. I do believe that America in particular is more of an an extrovert-driven country but I’m not so sure about the rest of the world. I have worked and visited many and varied countries both as a tourist and as a worker and the corporate environment is not the same as it is in America. 

I have also been to the United States both as a tourist and as part of my job and I have witnessed this trend myself. I don’t want to generalise but a lot of corporate Americans that crossed my path seem to be extroverts who love to be the centre of attention. As a tourist, I got this too. Here is an example. 

I found myself in a theatre somewhere watching a hypnotist. I had seen a hypnotist in the UK and when he asked for volunteers from the audience, the majority of people were very reluctant to do so, with most, including me, trying to shrink in their chair, hoping it would swallow me up. Eventually the hypnotist ended up picking on people, that is, almost pleading with them to volunteer. In America, I found myself on the front row and having seen the hypnotist in the UK, was dreading the fact that he might see me and invite me on stage to humiliate myself. Worse, he might detect that I am English and that would be that. He walked out on stage and started his act and then looked at the audience. I swear that he was looking at me, directly in the eye, as the words came out of his mouth. 

“Can I have some volunteers from the audience please?”

I didn’t have to worry. 

Hundreds of arms shot up, and people started clapping and cheering and whooping in the way that Americans do. Many were disappointed. I was relieved. 

The guy behind me was very upset because he wasn’t picked. 

“AM I INVISIBLE?” he yelled at anyone who was willing to listen, his disgust plain for all to see. His words fell on deaf ears because there were other people complaining too. 

I am sceptical about hypnosis and when the hypnotist convinced a guy that he was Michael Jackson and a woman that she was Madonna, I didn’t believe it. To me these people were seeking attention and when he got them to sing a “duet” before snapping his fingers and releasing them from their trances, I almost laughed – not at the fact that their attempts were funny; I thought they weren’t hypnotised at all and simply wanted to show off. And it worked because both of them loved the rapturous applause they received, with the guy even bowing as if he were a rock star.

When I was working in Atlanta, the people were all very friendly and I even got my own little cube to work in. My aim was to perform a critical upgrade of the operating system and database and all I wanted was to let the introvert take over and settle down and get on with my job undisturbed. That couldn’t happen in America. Loads of people popped into my cube and introduced themselves. Some wanted to talk to the British person, others were just adding me to their already massive social circle by inviting me for lunch or even dinner. It was easy for me because I am British and as such, they were fascinated by my European and British heritage as well as my accent. The extrovert took over a lot more than I expected him to. In fact, on a separate occasion, I had to give a course there and I dreaded that because I am afraid of public speaking and in a country where public speaking seems to be a corporate requirement (certainly in my experience), I figured that the job would be so much more difficult. 

You can read about that here:

Fear (Part Three) – Public Speaking

I know that I am wrong in my generalisation that Americans are all extroverts. Clearly they are not. I have met many introverts on my travels over there. However, I am aware that self-improvement is something that was born across the pond and I think there is an expectation to be the best of the best – as illustrated in this clip:

In fact, Susan Cain’s book introduces a real live motivational speaker called Tony Robbins, who claims that everybody has a sleeping giant within, a powerful alter-ego that can take over and make you evolve into that person by focussing on the right things and “unleashing your power”. He plays in front of huge crowds and here is a taster of what you would get if you were to attend one of his events:

We don’t get many people like that in the UK, nor, in my experience at least, in the rest of the world. I’m not saying that Tony Robbins isn’t good at what he does at all. Helping people to find inner strength is a laudable quality. It’s just the whole showbusiness aspect of it I am highlighting. In the book Susan Cain says that she attended one of his events and, as an introvert, felt way out of her comfort zone. Tony Robbins was bouncing around the stage like the rampant extrovert he is, and he had his audience captivated and screaming and whooping in the way that only Americans do. It was more like a rock concert than a motivational therapy session. 

While this concept exists in the UK, we are more laid back and much less likely to be taken in by desire to be the best of the best. Some people are, don’t get me wrong, but over here we are a reserved bunch who laugh and make fun of such things. I have worked with Mr Motivation (or Mr Motivator), an old nemesis of mine, who demands that I try to be the best of the best. You can read about him here: 

The Art of Underachievement 

Every acolyte of Mr Motivation I have met is an extrovert. Introverts like me can succeed and climb the corporate ladder but we do it in our own way. The conversation I had in the above post is based on a real one where I told this particular Mr Motivation that in the end that you should play to your strengths, and, as I hope that Susan Cain concludes by the time that I have finished her book, it is absolutely fine to be an introvert with different desires and ways of working. You will succeed in your own way even if you are an introvert and don’t want to spend all your time looking for power and influence in an extrovert-driven existence. 

You don’t have to be the best of the best of the best. Nevertheless, as an introvert, you still can be if you so desire. 

Inside My Head

I am weird.

What do you mean:“I know”?

No – really – I am. The persona you see on this blog is that of a confident arse who loves to be the centre of attention, happily dealing with all the shit that is hurled in his direction, beating it aside with a big stick while saying:

 “Is that all you’ve got? Come on – gimme some more.”

The reality is something slightly different. No – come on, Dave, let’s be honest  - the reality is totally different.

Deep inside me there is an extrovert buried alive within all of the neuroses that I keep hidden from public view. The extrovert does manage to free himself every now again surfacing on this blog far more than he does in real life.

The reality of the situation is that the introvert is more prevalent, as is the shy monster.

I therefore consider myself to be an introvert with extrovert tendencies and a streak of shyness.

In my head, the extrovert and the introvert are locked in an eternal battle for domination, with the introvert being the dominant species. The shy monster is a free radical that tips the balance in the favour of one or the other depending on many other factors such as stress, depression, euphoria, alcohol, grumpiness, tiredness etc. and with all of my fears and shortcomings also joining in the melee alongside my ego, you can imagine that it gets pretty messy in my head.

Hence the reason why I think I am weird.

My daily mood, and the way people see me on a day to day basis, is governed by one of the main two protagonists and how they have fared in their latest internal conflict.

The introvert may have hurled a paranoia bomb at the extrovert and rendered him useless, turning me into a neurotic mess.

The extrovert might have exploded a rapture grenade in the faces of the shy monster and the introvert and turned me into a rampant livewire.

I can do nothing about it.

Sometimes I wake up full of the joys of spring and attack my day with a huge grin on my face and a deep desire to run up to the nearest person and inflict myself upon them.

Can you imagine a gawking loon with mad hair grinning at you with a grotesque grin on his face?

Other days, my neuroses dominate and I find myself wanting to bask in my own weirdness – like now as I write this semi-serious character assassination of myself.

Deep down we’ve all got these beasts roaming around in our minds. I know a rampant extrovert and his neuroses surface when he finds himself on his own or when he’s not the centre of attention. There is not a hint of shyness in his body. However, he sometimes struggles at social events where everyone is focussing on somebody else – for example at a wedding, when he is upstaged by the bride and groom.

He wants to shout “Look at me! Look at me! ME! ME! ME! I’M OVER HERE!!!!!” but he can’t.

Bizarrely the introvert feels slightly more comfortable in those situations. I think everybody needs some “me” time where they are on their own and can bask in their own company. I also know at least one fellow introvert and people like that generally sometimes expose themselves to social gatherings where they are surrounded by people. The difference is that they effectively “show their face” for a short while, turning up late and leaving early so that they can spend time alone later.

I’m not that bad. I love social gatherings with friends and, sometimes I love being the centre of attention – albeit briefly – before returning home later to enjoy my own company.

Note – when I say “my own company” I really mean “with Mrs PM” because she is the only person I allow into my own little world. My introvert nature includes her and I am totally happy spending my “me” time with her by my side.

That said, I can also enjoy total isolation, like now, as I type this post with only Devin Townsend’s music and a sleeping fat cat for company.

The one thing I have confused in the past are introversion and shyness. I used to tell people that I was an introvert when really I meant that I was shy. It’s only when I was at university that I discovered the difference between the two thanks to somebody who explained that liking your own company isn’t shyness.

I don’t think introversion can be beaten. Shyness can – and I am in a position now where I have almost conquered this little beast. Sadly, when I need to be alone, shyness becomes prevalent again and I am less willing to engage with new people because I want to be alone.

If you are shy, the best thing you can do is just talk to people. As uncomfortable as that sounds, believe me it works. The way I see it is that people will judge you whether you like it or not. Not every stranger is a hostile person and most people will engage. Moreover, that person may be as shy as you.

In my opinion, if a person doesn’t like me, it’s their loss because ultimately I consider myself to be a nice guy. The truth is that the vast majority of strangers are also nice people and will love talking to you. If I am feeling confident and able to talk to a stranger, I find that they will almost always talk back.

Certainly if they are an extrovert, the chances are you won’t be able to shut them up.

In conclusion, I don’t know whether having a dominant introvert beast in my head is a good thing or not. I’m certainly very happy as an introvert but I also love it when the extrovert pops up and allows me to take on the world.

Finally, dear reader, over to you.

Are you an extrovert or an introvert? Or a bit of both?

Are you shy or can you talk to anybody? 

The Curse Of Shyness

I have a shocking confession: I am a very shy person.

I know that there will be people out there who know me and will say:

“WHAT? You may be many things but you are DEFINITELY NOT shy!”

If you think that then you are definitely wrong. I have lived with this debilitating condition ever since I can remember. Even when I was born, from the very moment I popped out my mother, I cried because I was entering a world of complete strangers. My mum was a stranger and so was the midwife – and when my dad walked in the room to see his first born, I screamed in terror.

I have suffered as a consequence of my introversion.

I was the child who hid behind his mother.

I was the teenager who preferred to sit in his room than go outside.

I was the student who stood alone like a lemon at parties. It was ironic really that I was lonely in a crowded room full of people who were enjoying themselves.

Don’t get me wrong – I did have friends; the only problem was that I really had to work hard at acquiring them. I relied heavily on fearless people who would talk to anybody, particularly those who would talk to me. I envied folks who could simply walk up to others and say things like “Hi, I’m Mike. What do you do?”

I found myself hanging around rampant extroverts, those who had no qualms about talking to me. Even then, it was difficult because I didn’t know what to say to them. I am thankful that they persevered and managed to unlock the real me from my self-inflicted prison. You see, once they got to know the real me, the person inside the shell, they actually liked what they found. When I become a friend to somebody, there is a bond between us that never breaks.

I realised that I had a problem and the desire to overcome that problem was more important than the fear generated by it. The turning point for me came at university. In my first year, I was invited to parties by extrovert friends, possibly because they realised I was horrifically shy and thought that the combination of atmosphere, young like-minded people and alcohol would allow me to break out of my shell naturally. The first few parties were terrifying. It was like being asked to leap from the top of the Eiffel Tower wearing nothing but a fig leaf (I would have preferred to have done that to be honest).

At those parties I would find myself lost in a room full of strangers, all of whom were happily talking to others and completely ignoring me. I may as well have been invisible – at least then I could have had some fun. I was the solitary person stood in the corner desperate to hear from anybody. People thought I was aloof and weird. I would drink a large amount of alcohol in order to pluck up the courage to chat; the problem was that I would then butt into a conversation and say something totally inappropriate or just plain stupid and all this with a totally slurred voice. I would be dismissed as a goon and pushed aside like a piece of crap. Inevitably I would often leave the party in disgrace. My ego took a real pounding at that time of my life.

I couldn’t understand how people could actually simply walk up to complete strangers and start a conversation. I would rather have had all of my teeth extracted with a sledgehammer than talk to somebody I didn’t know. I even found it difficult to walk into a place full of strangers just to meet a friend. If I had arranged to meet a mate in a pub, for example, I would be late on purpose, just so that I didn’t have to sit down on my own waiting for them. And then I gained a reputation for always being late.

I decided to fight back. I still had a couple of years of university left and I was determined to make the most of them. I began to study more than just the academic course I was on; I started studying other people, particularly those fearless warriors who slap the face of introversion into submission. These guys had no shame and most importantly they had no fear. They would simply say the first thing that came into their heads as an ice-breaker – and ninety percent of the time it worked. There were occasions when they were slapped back but, because they had skins thicker than an elephant pie, it had absolutely no effect. The kind of people I am talking about are those who volunteer to be made an exhibition of themselves and don’t fear the consequences.

I decided to try my hand at being extrovert. I became two people.

The first was “Real Me”, the person who was still shy, still terrified and still scared to open my mouth in public. The second was a person who the complete opposite, the person who laughed in the face of shyness and used it as a punch bag. I began to grab every opportunity to meet new people with both hands. When I was in the company of close friends I was still “Real Me”, the “me” who had popped out of the shell of shyness. Close friends knew the real me so I didn’t have to pretend to be somebody else. However, when I was invited to a party or had to be in a scenario where I had to talk to strangers, I became “The Extrovert”.

I saw “The Extrovert” as a different person, somebody I admired, and somebody who had the courage to explode into a room and enthral everybody present with his charm, wit and amazing repartee. “The Extrovert” was great. Almost everybody loved him and he could do anything.

And it actually worked - sometimes. After a summer off, I started my second year at university and was invited to a party. I arrived with friends but I took it upon myself to march into a room where I knew nobody whatsoever. I unleashed “The Extrovert” for the first time and said, “Go and do your stuff.”

I was fuelled by a little alcohol, but I did it. I walked up to a group of three guys chatting and said “Hi I’m Dave. I’ve come with Chris. Is this your party?” And they actually started chatting to me. In the end, it was one of the most enjoyable parties I’d been to. “The Extrovert” broke the ice and as I chatted to these three guys “Real Me” came out and “The Extrovert” rode off into the sunset like the Lone Ranger.

I made three new friends on my own without anybody else having to make an effort. Now to most people that would have been as natural as going to the toilet. I can imagine extroverts reading this and saying “D’UH!!! Doesn’t everybody do that? Are you some kind of freak?” To me, however, it was a major, and I mean MAJOR achievement

It was an epiphany. It was liberating. It changed my life.

Of course, after I left university and joined the rat race, I simply had to change. Given what I do now, the shy version of me would have a seizure. I travel a fair amount but the thought of flying to Switzerland on my own would have filled me with absolute dread. Even the thought of sitting in a restaurant on my own would be a nightmare for that shy person. It’s absolutely true. He would rather skewer his eyeballs than ask for a table for one in a German-speaking restaurant. However, I do this all the time. I call on “The Extrovert” to do the honours and then I can relax and send him on his way.

It doesn’t work all the time. I am still afraid to be perfectly honest. There are times when I find myself in a situation that chills me to the bone. I stutter, break into a cold sweat and have enough adrenalin flooding around my body to make me take off in flight. But I breathe deeply, smile and face the issue in front of me. It works, most of the time.

I still don’t like walking into a pub on my own either, but I bite the bullet and do it. I prefer to face the fear than be regarded as unreliable. It’s the same with public speaking. I’ve posted about this in the past, and, although I still have the urge to run screaming from the room, I let “The Extrovert” tell me “What’s the worst that can happen?” before unleashing him on the people I have to present to. Sometimes he fails, most of the time he succeeds.

You may read this post and think that there is a lot of bravado and that I have succeeded in conquering my affliction.

I haven’t.

I am still fundamentally shy. I still feel uncomfortable walking into a room of strangers, and sometimes, depending on my level of self-esteem, I will sit in a corner for a while speaking to nobody. Sadly there are still times when I am alone in a crowded room. The difference now, though, is that I know that I can talk to people if I want to. If I have a moment of supreme confidence I can walk into a room of strangers and become the life and soul of the party.

Are you shy, dear reader? If so, have you taken steps to try to fight this monster within? I’d be interested to know. Or are you a raging extrovert with no shame? If so, how do you do what you do?

As I said, people who know me don’t think I’m shy at all. They have seen me walk into a room full of strangers and charm the shoes off people. They have also seen me make a fool of myself in front of people I don’t know and then they have watched me laugh about it without a trace of fear.

They see “The Extrovert”. And thankfully, they also see the real me basking in his wake.