Post #3298: The external process

It’s probably no surprise that our bathroom isn’t done yet despite my confidence of last week; the plumber showed up 5 days after our scheduled day, but at least we have hot water again, plus the shower and sink plumbing has been upgraded a prepped for the installation of the shower and fixtures. We are now ready to install the shower stall and door, before moving onto drywall repair and baseboards.

A couple other items I have moved on this week include getting the household go-bags stocked and organized (up until now, I have only had one kindof pathetic bag for the two of us), and finding a roofer who will come replace our roof later this fall. Writing about my household procrastination problem last week seems to have helped me confront my to-do list and make some headway on it. Hooray!

Earlier this week I came across the concept of extroverted processing over on Austin Kleon’s Substack (paid post, sorry). He includes it in a list of old notes to himself and says “I never really felt like I really had that much going on in my head — I need to make things with my hands and talk about things with my tongue in order to process them properly. Most recently I’ve discovered that art isn’t just a way of uncovering what I think, it’s probably more valuable to me as a way of discovering how I feel.” This really jumped out at me because that is 100% what most of my talking and writing is about – discovering what I actually think and feel about things. I just don’t come to a lot of conclusions inside my head without some kind of output to get there.

I first understood this tendency way back in a college Canadian literature class when I was twenty-one and I started speaking about a text we were reading. I remember feeling a bit amazed with the interesting connections I was making in the discussion, that I hadn’t previously thought of. Back then, there was no Internet, and so it took me years before I came across the term “verbal processor” which is essentially a person who speaks in order to clarify thoughts. As I have spent more and more time writing over the years, I have come to understand it in the same way, that writing is a way for me to uncover what I actually think. I do not think things and then write them down, the writing itself helps me think about my ideas. And for whatever reason, sharing that externally is an important part of the process – hence I’ve had a blog for 20 years, and a newsletter is part of my current output. This is what moves me, from simply being a “verbal” processor to an “extroverted” one. I don’t simply need to talk it through, but no matter the medium I work with, externalizing it is key.

I think this orientation is often misunderstood as classic extroversion more generally, something I’ve often been confused about in my life. For while I tend process externally, I don’t necessarily get more energy from being with people, then being alone (which is what separates the ‘verts from one another). When I was younger, I think my extroversion, which manifested in my teens as a desperate need for connection with others, was a way to heal from a somewhat alienating childhood. But as I’ve aged into a life I truly choose, I have discovered I am much more an ambivert, with a tendency towards introversion (I recently took an online personality test over at 16personalities which strongly suggests I am in the camp of introverts).

Crazy, I know! This does not square with what people think of me since I throw a lot of parties and dinners, and host musicians and all that. But the truth is, I’m happy alone working in my studio or the house, most of the time. It’s where I feel most at peace, and most productive. I have increasingly recognized (after reading Enchanted by Katherine May who discovered this tendency in herself to be linked to autism) that to be comfortable in my social world, I rely on alcohol to help me get in the groove with others – which means that I’m almost always drinking when I spend time in the outside world. At home, alone or with Brian, I almost never drink because I don’t feel the need to loosen up in order to allow others in (which is a whole other set of issues I’m working on in therapy). I do not love this about myself, but I’m starting to understand where it come from, and it suggests something about where I am most at ease. On the other hand, without social engagement, I would have nowhere to process – which is pretty essential to my intellectual and creative capacity. It’s no wonder that I spend a lot of time orchestrating social engagements that bring interesting/smart/creative people into my life – my own output depends on it!

The other day, Brian and I returned home from a social engagement with some old activist friends and I found myself making a list of all the people I could talk to about my book project. People who would get where I was coming from, and be able to argue with me where I might be off in my thinking. I’ve never consciously made a list like that as an approach to my writing before, but it seems to me very important that I create a circle in my life with whom I can have an ongoing conversation as one way of staying on track with my book. My friend Jill is my creative coach, so I’ve got her in my corner already, but I think I might branch out this time and find more focused conversations to fuel my work, particularly as I start to really unpack my ideas in writing.

Self-discovery for the win? I will let you know how it goes.