Versions of Introversion

JANUARY 2, WORLD INTROVERT DAY

For too long he blended into the background.

He remained merely at his steady state — his most stable, constant, regular, even, uniform, unchanging, unvarying, unwavering, unfluctuating, invariant, and unbroken energy stratum of inadventurous venturism.

The wallpaper was floral, as was his face. The carpet was abstract, as were his feet. Even a fly on the wall couldn't hear as much as he could. The world passing by is very conversational. And even cruel at times. He heard but dared not listen. All those frequencies to sort out takes too much work. Noise was easier.

His version of introversion, however, was recursive, as his lines and patterns regrouped according to the changes in the room decor. You can't change the world enough to change me. To make me stand out. Besides, the energy used to maintain anonymity was less than that expended to stand out.

The only time he had ever stood out was at birth, coming out as blue as the hospital drapes and sheets. He was resusictated and pinked up. He stood out. Thereafter, his dynamics were minimal. Converations continued as if he were not there. At all.

When rare conversations centered on him emerged, eventually drifting off as other subjects, his piqued interest reverted back into the walls that were obstacles to engagement.

ENTER THE INTERIOR DECORATOR

She was adventurous. Bold. Assimilated colors and patterns challenged his confininement. He stood out for the second time in his life. For anyone who cared to look, he came out.

Contrast happens and difference rules the day.

He was different, and all it took was the right interior design. The right decorator. Someone with a penchant for haute couture; an esprit de corps; verve and vigor for the vivacious.

They entered their new life with colors that clashed. It may not have been pleasant in every room, but it made their lives interesting. When walls clash, walls fall. They invert.

Even for the introverted.