As I write this blog I am sitting in may daughter’s home watching her two dogs, Luna and Stella. The two pups are yellow labs each of whom might have played the role of “Ole Yeller” in a movie version of that story, save for the fact that they are both girls. They are very sweet and well behaved pets who only require a bit of food and water, time outside, and some snuggling and petting now and then. It’s an easy and rewarding task sitting with them. They express their gratitude in a hundred different ways while allowing me to enjoy the tranquility of the moment. 

I’m a bonafide introvert which means that I get my healing and energy from moments of solitude. It’s not that I want to be alone all of the time. In fact I greatly enjoy gatherings with friends and going to parties. I just need absolute serenity when I become tired from interactions with the world. Being alone with the dogs at my daughter’s home is akin to being in introvert heaven. I can read or write without interruption. The dogs go with the flow of my desires, rarely interrupting my contented bliss. I can eat or not eat, so there is no need to prepare meals at a routine time, no laundry to wash, no chores waiting for me to begin. 

It is winter time as I sit here and the hum of the heater is one of the only continuous sounds. Once in awhile I hear the engine of a train pulling its load which reminds me of my childhood when my house was only blocks away from a major railroad line. At night I would hear the clackety clack of the boxcars and tankers running along the rails. It was like a lullaby to my ears. Hearing that sound again makes me feel safe and reminds me of the gentle love of my mother who provided me and my brothers with a truly wonderful home.

I used to bring the dogs to my house when my daughter left on vacations and short trips, but I found that the change of scenery only made the pups nervous. When I chose to come to their house I forged a calmer and more pleasant relationship with them. They trust me now and know that I will keep them happy while they follow their own quiet and undemanding routines. We are totally in sync with each other. It is almost like a vacation of my own. 

It has been admittedly difficult for me to have another person living in my home now. My father-in-law is a sweet soul who does his best not to upend our lives too much, but his personality and mine are so very different. He awakes full of energy and desires to begin the day with a social gathering at breakfast. He walks into the kitchen fully dressed and begins turning on lights even as I flinch. He greets me with a hearty “Good morning!” while I usually simply nod and weakly smile. He wants to discuss the weather and talk about the schedule of the day at a time when I would normally be sipping on my tea in the semi-darkness listening to the sounds of the children waiting for the school bus and preparing myself for whatever I may decide to do on that day. He and I are two wonderful souls with very different ways of living. 

My father-in-law is a world class extrovert. Unlike me he thrives on interacting with people. He loves parties and likes long conversations on the phone with friends. He tells stories of glorious times with his buddies, all of which sound almost painful to me. He rarely deviates from a carefully planned schedule of eating, exercising and sleeping. He likes to sit down before dinner at five each afternoon sipping on wine and munching on cheese and crackers. He wants a well balanced hot meal following his happy hour that is filled with lively conversation and followed by dessert and an evening of watching television. 

The gypsy spirit in me wants to be free to from routine and the demands of a clock. I have had to change my ways to accommodate my elderly guest’s needs. Sometimes I feel okay about doing something to make him feel at home and other times I want to run away from the new lifestyle that has become my daily drudge. I tell myself that I can adapt even as my nature feels stressed and uneasy. Sitting with my daughter’s dogs is like a godsend to ease me through the changes that are so difficult for me. They will prepare me for many more weeks of acting as though being a full time extrovert is okay.

I know that in the grand scheme of things my father-in-law is more like most people than I am. My guess is that the vast majority of souls would wonder what I might possibly find wrong with his gregariousness. I understand that I am the outlier. We introverts do not run the world. We represent a much smaller population than the group to which my father-in-law belongs. Most people do not fully comprehend why I am so in need of time to my myself without small talk or a clock demanding my attention. It is the way I have always been.

As luck would have it, my husband, Mike, is very much like me. We have been quite compatible for fifty five years. We mixed it up with the extroverts at work and then came home each evening to a haven in which we were able to be ourselves until our next foray into the gaiety of life. We managed quite well, often passing ourselves off as members of the crowd. Only now and again did we find kindred spirits to whom we would admit the “quirks “that much of the population believe our behaviors to be. 

My idea of a grand vacation is not on a crowded beach or in the swell of Disneyland but sitting on the porch of a mountain cabin watching the sunrise while a rooster crows. I enjoy standing alone on a cliff overlooking the ocean or gazing up at a starry sky in the middle of nowhere. When the world is too much with me, even sitting in a quiet room with two dogs snoring at my feet is heavenly. It’s who I am, the grand introvert recharging her batteries for another day of regular life. I’ve learned to love who I am while accommodating those who need a more raucous version of living. So far the balancing act has worked out well and it’s all good.