Introspective                         

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Those of you that have read my Blog must recognize that I’m introspective.  I suspect I have always been so.  But in recent years I have taken more time to look…inside.  I think I understand myself better.  Well, I hope so in any case.  But I believe understanding myself helps me understand others…too.   

Most might not consider being introspective a very “macho”…masculine…harrr…uugh…grunt…time to pillage and conquer...sorta of thing.  I suppose it’s not. And looking in takes time, sometimes too much time.  But in this crazy hectic world filled with so much going on--constantly; In this outside the body social media culture we share, maybe the time looking in is not wasted--completely.  Oh I suppose, that a body can be too introspective, just like we can be too anything else.  Surely there is need for balance in all things.  Maybe I’m heavy in the internal examination part.  I know I’m heavy in the self -ridicule part.  Perhaps the two tie together sometimes.  But if it helps me understand--me--the who I am, then I’m all for it.  

You see I am my own worse critic, most people are.  And I measure myself all the time, I suspect most people do.  But I measure myself against who I should be and who I was, and that may be a bit unusual.  I respect you. I really do, but I don’t measure myself by you.  

I can’t.  

It wouldn’t be fair to you, and I try to be fair, but it wouldn’t be fair to me either. 

Because you are not me, and I am not you.  Our lives may cross, intertwine for periods of time, but our history, the whole of it, is very different.  The things you have faced are different than the things I have faced.  Though we have things in common, we do not have everything in common, for we have been shaped by the years of our lives.

Uniqueness.  The things that set us apart, make measuring one against the other purposeless--so I do my best to avoid doing it. 

But I do look inside.  I search my memories for the moments that have shaped me.  I recognize that even the blaa days mattered.  By focusing on times long ago I sharpen my memories of people I knew then. People I may not have seen for years and years.  I study how I reacted to them--most often poorly--so that if a similar situation arises I might handle it better.  Again measuring me against me. 

Now I don’t just reminisce for hours each day--that’s not me.  But there are times when I walk,--I think. Sometimes late at night when sleep avoids--I think. Or when I do some mind numbing work which requires little evolvement--I think. But this mind work occurs most often, when I sit at the keyboard.  Times, when I write ramblings of my mind like this one, or move out of my body into a character I have created.  If I do not look inside…me…how can I hope to show you the inside of those imaginary friends of mine?   

I think being introspective is a requirement of a fiction writer.  I could be wrong.  I usually am.  But even if it is not a requirement, it is a tool I use, and if you have read any of my writing you know I need to use all the tools I can get.  So I will not blame myself for being introspective. But I will not praise myself for it either.  It is part of who I am, no more, no less.  

Is it one of my strengths or weaknesses. 

Who can say?  

But I hope it opens me to feel more for others…to care when caring is not easy.  That seeing my flaws helps me overlook blemishes in others.  Maybe…maybe…. I hope so…

1-27-2017  (647 Words)

6-24-2023 (652 Words)