Saturday, June 5, 2021

When You Know, You Know

This post is written from the lens of one who understands people and relational dynamics through the lens of personality frameworks such as the Myers-Briggs and the Enneagram.  Several references made throughout will assume some understanding of core concepts of these frameworks.  Regardless of who the reader is, though, may it offer some food for thought.

For too much of my life, I have given my power away.  

Growing up in a Christian environment, the importance of discernment within community was always emphasized.  "In the multitude of counselors, there is safety," was the common word, and this was applied to life decisions around friendships, dating, career, and even school.  The ritual of presenting prayer requests during family time, small group gatherings, and even with friends, fostered a spirit of transparency that I still cherish and live out to this day.  But for an INFP--whose introverted intuition often knows the meaning of things before having the words to express them; whose perceiving way of intaking information leads to a strong tolerance for ambiguity and a willingness to wait for what is true to reveal itself; and whose belief in emotional process rather than logical outcome tends to make our Western-Enlightenment-colonized society feel uncomfortable--this also meant that many a decision I made in life took time to gain acceptance amongst my family and community.

At this point in life, I realize that those who instinctually understand me the most are not necessarily those who have known me the longest, or with whom I have had the most conversation.  Those who "get" me on a primal level share my core Myers-Briggs personality traits, as well as my "self-preservation" instinct (Enneagram).  Thus, I have felt more known by strangers, at times, than by those who know me well--including my own parents and brother.  My chaplain supervisor remarked during the winter, "Mutuality is hard to find, isn't it?"  Followed by a more facetious, "It sure is lonely at the top!"

What often exacerbates the feeling of being misunderstood is people's sincerest intentions.  I have often lamented that, in addition to the invisible, "I'm a safe person.  Tell me everything" written on my forehead, my youthful appearance and INFP personality have also seemed to elicit advice-giving and platitudes.  As a natural "Healer" type (per Myers-Briggs), and now as an experienced helping professional (between music therapy, social services, and chaplaincy), I know that the way people give advice often says more about their own needs and anxieties than about our situation and needs.  

Over the years, I learned how to make myself known, preemptively, by sharing with people that I'm an internal processor; that I never give (and prefer not to receive) advice unless it is asked for; and that I often will not consider someone to be a good friend until and unless we have known each other for 2 years.  I now understand that the "one-to-one" instinct is my most "repressed," according to my Enneagram subtypes "stack."  I was never one of those girls who needed a friend at her side in order to go to the bathroom, never designated another as my "best friend," and I genuinely wondered how one life partner would be able to be enough for me.  I often felt trapped by the energy of people who latched onto me in a very one-to-one fashion, and my self-preservation instinct would continue to wonder when I might leave to use the bathroom, drink some water, eat, or take a nap.  Those who wanted to get close to me sometimes commented that they felt that they needed me more than I needed them.

My secondary instinct is "social," which has served me well in my professional life, while still being balanced and regulated by my ability to self-preserve and maintain work-life balance.  My attention and sensitivity to the "bigger picture" of relational group dynamics has allowed me to take on leadership positions, even as an introvert, and to take multiple needs into account.  Whether it be on the floors as a chaplain, at parties during college, and sitting in class as a student, I never fully "zoomed in" to one person or one topic.  I would scan the scene for the multiple layers of what was going on.  In dating, I was never that person who became obsessed with their partner, and I always thought about who might be excluded by my participation in a heteronormative and monogamous relationship.  My uneasiness with so quickly "leaving" to "cleave" may have protected me from relationships that ultimately were not meant to be for the long haul, while still giving me the opportunity to learn whatever lessons they had to gift me.

Most of the life choices I am proudest of met with resistance from many--often those with hearts of ministry--who sought to help me "discern." There are too many to recount here, but it has been a pattern I have tracked for most of my adulthood.  I say his not out of arrogance, but out of a recognition of the few and far between individuals who actually "got it"--who helped me explore my feelings, my opinions, and my process, helping me eventually meet the Holy One with my desires...and who never brought their own "stuff" into the mix.  That is the kind of friend and helping professional I have always tried to be as well, and it is my passion to train others to do the same, as a chaplain educator down the road.

As a not-yet-educator-chaplain, I find the study of humans as "living human documents" to be fascinating, and I have gleaned so much wisdom from my patients.  "When you know, you know," is a phrase that happily married older couples use when young or single people ask, "What's your secret?"

I believe that this phrase applies not only to love, but also to life overall.  Do we trust ourselves and those we love to already have within them all the resources they need to access their best self?  Does our theology and psychological understanding allow for that?  

Mine does, after years of wandering in the wilderness of "Christian" "discernment"--particularly in Chraristmatic-and-Pentecostally-influenced Evengalical-type settings.  I now think very differently about "prayer" and "discernment," thanks to three years of studying under professors who are contemplative and holistic in their theology and intellectual bent.  And I have formed my own theology--in conversation with Process Thought and the Law of Attraction--that I am finding to be both practical and healing.  

In a way, I officially staked my claim on this theology yesterday, during my oral defense of Ph.D qualifying exams (based "officially" upon narrative pedagogies, critical auto ethnography, internal family systems, and virtue ethics, but "unofficially" also addresses themes of discernment and accessing our best Selves).  As I work out my dissertation research in this next phase of my degree, my aim as a practical theologian is to share these viewpoints with the lay community as well, because what is life-giving to me cannot be "hid under a bushel."  

Let us "quench not the Spirit" by disregarding our own intuitive wisdom, which comes from the presence of Christ within.  The more aligned we are to our own desires, gifts, and sense of security in Unconditional Love, the more we will begin to understand (as I am coming to see) the wisdom in "When you know, you know"--in all things, for all people.



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