The gift of becoming a hermit

I used to be an extrovert.



Before, I used to get all of my self assurance and energy from interactions with others. In fact I found other people essential to making even a simple decision. 

Everything was discussed with my best friends, pros and cons were analyzed and weighed, the opinions of others were taken into consideration. Only after this arduous process which sometimes took days, was the decision made. 

Is that how every extrovert thinks? I do not know. 

There is more to me than just being an extrovert. I sport some large size abandonment issues, a fear of being rejected and a bit of seeking approval thrown in for good measure. 

I am sure that other extroverts come with their own blend of herbs and spices that make them uniquely who they are. 

I was happy being an extrovert. I happily dressed up and run off to meetings, making motions and working to implement the decisions of the committee. I was on the executive of a toastmasters club, I was on the board of directors of my spiritual community, I made a lot of time to see friends and relatives... constantly comparing what I was to how they saw me. 

Still I see the old need for approval and recognition burning within me, but I do not actively seek to extinguish that flame. For now, I just observe it with an attitude of curiosity. 

When I decided to move away from everyone I knew, to a place where I knew no one and did not speak the language, everyone warned me. My friends were adamant I was being rash. 

"When you are alone in a place where you know no one and need a shoulder to cry on, what will you do then?" they asked.

That was 2 years ago. I didn't listen. 

I moved to a place where I knew no one, where I did not speak the language. I  encountered difficulties and I had no one to cry with. 

I tried to make new friends but I was unsuccessful. I just did not seem to get along with anyone I met. This was a new thing, since I was always the charmer, the social butterfly. 

Yet, months passed and my attempts at meeting new people grew more and more feeble. I just did not feel like I could be myself with anyone I tried to befriend.

For the first year or so I still relied on my old friends. I tried to use the phone to reach out when I was in need. 

Over time, the more time I spent on my own, the more I was comfortable with my own company. Finally the day came when I put forth a new idea to my old friends and instead of seeing their comments and suggestions as supportive I saw them as limiting. Why shouldn't I do as I please? Why should I not forge bravely ahead as if the obstacles did not matter?

That was the day I realized that it is not always good to run all of my ideas past my friends. I thought of many ideas that I let go of because my friends thought they were too large, too fearless, too difficult. 

Captain Franklin often says: "Believe in me until I succeed."

I think there is great wisdom in that. So what if I fail? So what if it is difficult? So what if the first, second or tenth try do not yield desired results?

I believe in me until I succeed. 

I traveled alone seeking communion with myself until I found internal unity. Who am I without friends? Who am I without my things? Who am I without the trappings that society puts upon me? Without titles and responsibilities?

At the end of the second year I find myself back at the beginning. This time without most of my belongings starting over again. This time without lofty plans and without waiting to be rescued by an island in the middle of the Atlantic. 

If no one is there for me to cry with, if no one saves me, if no one vets my plans, will I be OK?

Yes, I still have my partner, Captain Franklin. Today we are starting over just like we did 2 years ago when I first came to Quebec. Richer by much experience, having paid tuition in the school of life for two years filled with trials and tribulations. We are ready for the future. 

The most important thing for me is that I finally let go of the mental prison of checking in if I am OK, of comparison to others, of expectations.

I am me and I am OK just the way I am, with no great titles, with no tropical island to back my self worth. 


I am Agnieszka and that is enough.