Astonishment is Over-rated

I've been thinking about the ways that introverts get penalized for being quiet--at least in parish ministry situations.  It's no wonder we sometimes feel like the drive-by victims in the drama of life.  How many of you highly sensitive introverted types have heard this one?

"You're just not available at all.  When you're here, your office door is always shut.  And you're gone most of the time, it seems.  Are you really at the library or at the coffee shop or holed up in your study at home?  I think you're just slacking off and don't want anyone to know it."

Many folks like noisy and active work environments.  They are energized by the conversation and can work in the midst of the competing sounds.  I just can't do that.  I can produce more in two hours of quiet concentration than I can in two days in what many people consider a normal environment.  Others might think I'm unavailable, but I think I'm just trying to do my job.

Then someone complains, and I'm astonished.  

Or who about this one?

"You've been here three months and have never talked to me once individually.  I'm here a lot.  I'm always ready to talk.  Lots of people are willing to talk to me all the time.  So I have to conclude that you just don't like me or that I've done something to offend you.  What's wrong with you?

I know that person who is always talking to someone.  I see that cluster of people, and I'm sure that I will be in intruder, an unwelcome outsider.  I certainly don't want to appear like some needy hanger-on who can't find anyone with which to have a conversation.  And I have other things to do as well.  The conversational types can get plenty of attention without me.  And besides, I can't imagine that I would have anything useful to add anyway.

The someone takes me to task for being distant, aloof, closed off and unwelcoming.  And once again, I'm astonished.  

And then there's this one, an oldie but a goodie.

"I passed you in the hall the other day, and you didn't even acknowledge that I was there.  I smiled and said hello.  You sort of nodded and went on.  It was like you didn't care about me at all.  Couldn't you tell that I wanted to talk with you about something important?"

I had just heard about the death of a child in the parish.  I was a bit shaken by the news, and I was headed off to call the family.  I was storing energy, focusing on what I would say and not say.  I was preparing myself for whatever might come along.  I was lost in concentration.  I'm not sure I remember even going past the person who made the complaint.

But there it is.  And soon there's a phone call to the bishop about that cold and unfeeling pastor.  And once again...you guessed it...I'm astonished.

Of course, we can talk abut codependent and passive aggressive people who might be able to manage their own feelings and expectations better.  But that's not the whole story.  Many people process life outside their heads and expect that I will do it the same way.  

Not likely.

When I'm rested and at my best, I know enough to slow down and step out of my head.  Sometimes I even have to say to myself something like this: "You're going to be with a crowd of people now.  Many of them will want some of your time and attention.  They don't care if you have anything significant to say.  They wouldn't notice if you did.  They're not wired like you.  So, make an effort.  Make a connection.  You know you'll like it--at least a little bit."

Yes, that sounds incredibly lame.  And in spite of that fact, it seems to work.  At least when I have that inner pep talk I am astonished less often.