I Was a Lazy Kid

For as long as I can remember, I have been a lazy person. I was a lazy kid. I don't say that as some "point of pride," merely as a fact.

In grade school, it seemed like my life revolved around a carefully laid strategy of non-participation. I was always good at "making myself busy" at crucial moments... being in the bathroom when sides were picked for school yard games; "forgetting" something I had to go back for.

It has never been entirely clear to me why I avoided participation. Well... in part because it felt scary to be in the rough of things. Life felt very rough, and I felt ill-equipped to deal with it. Life always felt like it was "screaming" at me, and I wanted no part of it. I also felt somewhat held back by the impending criticism from my parents, should I participate in something and do anything short of "excel." To this day, the words "In OUR family, we _______" followed by some story about how anyone in the family who'd undertaken whatever I'd just been a part of had done to at a world class level.

I was rarely "world class" at anything. Most of the time, I just wanted to remain largely unseen. Unseen was a safe place... and I was all about safety. I "created myself" a solid performer-- someone who was reliably near the "upper third" of things I did. Good enough to not suffer the embarrassment of being "chosen last" for school games, but not so good that anyone would notice me. It meant that when I had to "participate," I could so in a manner so unobtrusive that it still felt like "not being seen."

I also remember the time my mother came in my room and told me (for the 345th time) that I needed to tidy up. And then she asked "I JUST don't understand why you can't keep your room tidy???"

Unlike the typical 9-year old response of "Uhhh... I don't know," I instead chose to reply "Because I am just a LAZY person."

Of course, that just set her off on a tirade about how that was "utter nonsense" and how nobody "in our family" was a lazy person.

When I look at my adult life, I can see all the ways in which I have chosen paths that left me "unnoticed." I have never felt comfortable with being noticed; nor with "taking credit." I think that I used to have fear of being seen-- as an adult in middle age, I just don't care. If you want "acknowledge" something I have done, put some money in my bank account.

I have contemplated those feelings at length. Ultimately, I just don't need my ego stroked... my "psychic rewards" in life have never come from someone putting me on some kind of figurative public pedestal. My reward comes from the internal observation that someone "is better off" as a result of something I did. And maybe that's participant to why I have tended to feel put off by "excelling:" People always want to seem to engage in "deity worship" for those who do good... it becomes all about "recognition." I don't care. If you want to "recognize" me, contribute to my grocery budget.

Sitting Still

The thing is, I really like "sitting still."

I believe all people are drawn to whatever actions make them feel good, and fulfilled. That is, at least if your primary motivation isn't fear.

Simplicity and stillness are things that make me feel good and fulfilled. Constant "busy-ness" does not-- in fact it makes me feel unsettled, jumpy and grumpy. "Being on the go" is not a positive feeling.

What bugs me is the "judgment," along with the underlying idea that there is some kind of "standard" way to live what the world considers a good life. A proper life. A life that is "emotionally healthy." But I always end up at the same starting point:

WHO decides?
And what makes THEM an "authority" on other people's lives... other people who are NOT LIKE THEM?

In those questions lie a large part of the reason why so much conventional therapy is doomed to failure. Most therapists lack the insight, or skills, or non-attachment to truly view their clients outside their own lenses of perception. Inevitably, what the client "should" do is filtered by the therapist's perceptions and experience. That is, with the exceptions of the tiny percentage of therapists who truly are clued in...

I like sitting still. I like "not doing much." I don't have a FEAR of doing... it's just that "doing" doesn't feel very good; I don't get a positive brain reward for "doing" the way I do for "not doing."

Some would hold that something is "wrong" with me, or I am "not normal" for a desire to not do.

Perhaps true, from a "majority perspective," but who is to say that a desire to "do" is the de-facto standard of behavior for ALL human beings?

Fear of Confrontation-- a deeper look

It is commonly held enneagram "wisdom" that Nines are afraid of (or avoidant of) confrontation. I've been looking at my history and considering why. Is the behavior inherent, or is it learned.

As far as I can tell, it is experiential. That is, my primary reason for avoiding confrontations is that it tends to "end badly"-- for me. Why?

Because arguments/fights/heated discussions tend to be quick-thinking, in-the-moment, spontaneous events. And I royally suck at "thinking on my feet"... that is, my brain is "wired" to think slowly and thoroughly... when I am "required" to come up with something "in the moment" I draw a blank-- another reason why I am really bad at things like Trivial Pursuit or other games that require quick thinking.

What made me think of it is the fact that I am very good at "debating," if I get to do so by email, where there is time to "think about" what I am going to say next. What's more I am not "afraid" of such debates, nor do I "avoid" them.

So, to extrapolate fully, my fear/avoidance of confrontation is primarily related to (a) the "fear" that I won't have a comeback (fact!) when arguing and (b) the avoidance of an "activity" that will inevitably leave me the "losing party."

I simply don't have "the winning argument" till I've had half an hour to think it through. "In the moment," I am tongue-tied and empty headed...

Earlier today, I started tying this to other aspects of Nine behavior, at least as it applies to me.

"Nines don't know what they want." Wrong. I DO know what I want, but it will take me 10 minutes to think it through, and you need (for example, when deciding where to go to lunch) my answer in the next three seconds. I pretty much always know what I want... but I need time to unbury the answer.

That saying... "Speed Kills?" Yeah, that could be applied to my brain...

Nines, Work and Anger...

"The core issue of enneagram Nines is their repressed anger..." and blah, blah, blah....

The thing about self-development psychobabble is that it always tends to be long on accusations and identifications, and very short on solutions and healing.

No... really....

Think about it.

"Oh, you must sit in the silence and when the leaf blows on the northern wind during a full moon, the truth will become evident to you.... and you already have this knowing, it is just hidden by your own self-deceptions."

What???

What the fuck does that mean?

Whereas I can appreciate-- and truly do-- the value of self-discovery, I have always found myself frustrated by the so-called "Healing Professions," because they seem all geared towards people being "eternally IN healing" but rarely towards being healED.

Again, think about it:

If you go to the emergency room with a broken arm, you don't sit around and study broken bones for five years, and then wear 43 different types of casts while you "learn the best way to heal your broken arm."

We live in a world that's all about "Being IN the problem," not "SOLVING the problem."

Color me cynical, but if you went to a therapist and left happy and whole after three sessions... the therapist would have done a brilliant job, but also worked themselves out of charging you $95 a week for three years of torturous introspection...

But I am off on a bit of a sidetrack.

I was thinking about how the enneagram is very good at pointing out that Nines have hidden and repressed anger issues... but there is very little information about where that anger comes from, and how one might "find" it and balance it. It took me years and years and years to understand anything at all practical about my own understanding and healing.

There's no information about what anger "feels like."

My father was an Eight, and he had "rage issues." I learned what anger "looks like" (at least one version) by being around him... and watching him throw tools in his workshop, and scream obscenities at the top of his lungs at the slightest provocation.

In observing myself-- and I consider myself quite skilled at self-inquiry-- there is no part of me that feels inclined to throw a hammer across the room because I dropped a piece of sandpaper.

That's just a metaphor, really...

My point being that we all "feel" things individually. It's folly to think that there's some "absolute" way we're supposed to respond to-- and feel about-- the stuff of life. We're individuals. We-- not other people-- get to set the standard for what something "feels" like.

The only common thread in true Healing is that we be truthful. I must be truthful in my evaluation that "dropping the piece of sandpaper" does, indeed, not make me want to throw a hammer. If I actually want to throw a hammer, but pretend that I don't... we'll then I am being "repressed."

Thus, a large part of the healing process is about separating Truth from conjecture. And the global tendency to create an "average." Which reminds me of something a college psychology professor once told me: "Always remember that an average or a norm is a statistical concept, not a real person."

I spent many years "looking for my lost anger," where I would have been much better off studying and understanding underlying variations in human temperament.

But again, I have gone off on a sidetrack.

A type Nine trusim: "Nines talk in sagas."
Yup.

Nines do feel anger.
Personally, I feel angry when I have to work.

I don't feel angry about the work, itself... or about actually working... I feel angry about "having to work." Having to work means I can't sit still and do nothing. Having to work often means I feel forced to engage in meaningless (at least to me) activities. Work prods me into "activity" and that prodding makes me feel anger. In many ways, it is the extension of the same anger I remember feeling as a child when my mother would tell me to clean my room. There was no resentment about "being told what to do," there was resentment at having my "quiet" disrupted.

I have a genuine and deep desire for quiet, and for emptiness. "No-thing" is, to me, a beautiful concept. The choice to "not fill" space, time, and mind with "some-thing" is beautiful. My most-desired state is that in which I sit still-- like one of those Tibetan monks-- in silence, for 40 years.

My life in this "real" 3D world has been about how to structure my surroundings and activities and work in such a way that I can approximate that, while still being sufficiently "in the world."

I have learned and embraced that this is My Way of Living. When I am questioned-- or even attacked-- my response (NOT "repressed") has become a request to others to consider their questioning in the context of the way they might feel deeply uncomfortable when they feel "bored" or "there is nothing to do." I feel deeply uncomfortable when there is too much "to be done" in my life.

Of course, many make the argument that "doing" is a positive, and "not-doing" is laziness.

I'm sorry. THIS Nine does have an opinion. This whole "industriousness" thing and the "always in motion" thing is a westernized learned behavior, and not the Truth of who we Are. Just go learn about peaceful indigenous peoples... most of the time, they spend about 20% of their waking hours "working," as in fending for themselves and contributing to their village's well-being. The rest of the time they are just "at rest" and engaged in non "productive" things that mostly involve building community and connection.

"Yeah, but I couldn't afford my car, my travel, my boat and my XYZ and my ABC if I only worked three hours a day!"

To which I say "Instead of pointing fingers at me and what you perceive as laziness, who don't you point that finger at yourself and ask why you fear not filling every available space and moment with some-thing."

I have spent many years in the process of simply identifying what makes me angry. And the point I wanted to make is that this issue of "Nines and their anger" isn't so much about whether or not I get angry... but about what makes me feel anger. And for YOU (this is the "global" you), accepting that what pisses you off may not be what pisses ME off.

Having to work so much makes me feel angry.
Injustices make me feel angry.
Bullying makes me feel angry.
Those who "push hierarchies" in order to put themselves "at the top" make me feel angry.
War makes me feel angry.
People demanding things of me because it's "easier" for them to coerce someone else than do it themselves make me feel angry.
Narcissism makes me feel angry.

Conversely, I don't give a shit that the waiter dropped a plate, and our dinner will be delayed 15 minutes.
I don't give a shit that someone made a mistake. Mistakes happen. That's life. Deal with it.
I don't give a shit that your political views are polar opposite from mine.
I don't give a shit that some people are unconscious with their words. Some people are unconscious. Deal with it.
I don't give a shit that some service person won't "break the rules" for me. My lack of planning is not someone else's crisis. Be accountable.
I don't give a shit that the mechanic didn't get my car fixed today. So, it was more complicated than we expected... deal with it.
I don't give a shit that someone "dropped the ball." They dropped the ball. People are fallible. That's life.

And in the end?

I feel angry when people tell me what I am "supposed to feel angry about." Especially when they have expectations that I feel angry "on their behalf" for things (slights? transgressions?) I wouldn't even have noticed, in the first place. No. Bugger off. YOU don't get to "be me." I get to be me.

Nines and Being Present

Of course, as I write these words, I can only write them from my own perspective; my own experience.

I have recently thought a lot about the whole issue of "Being Present." Someone close to me-- whom I love, respect and care about-- has pointed out that I "don't seem to be present."

Of course, the stereotypical Nine is perpetually "zoned out." I don't doubt-- or question-- that I zone out.

However, the discussion got me to contemplate why I am not more Present. After all, I have spent a large part of my adult life in pursuit of self-development, trying to become a better person.

Whether it applies to all Nines-- or just this Nine-- I have discovered that Being Present is a lot of work. Whether this is true for all people, I don't know.

Imagine, for a moment, the feeling that goes with threading a needle. You have to really concentrate, really look at the eye of the needle, and then focus intently on getting the thread to go through the impossibly tiny hole. This-- for most of us-- takes pretty intense focus and concentration. This is how I experience Being Present. It's not that I "don't know how." It's just that it requires intense concentration and focus, and a lot of effort... and it just plain tires me out, after some minutes... or half an hour, or whatever.

I admire those who can "stay Present" all the time. I have not yet figured out how to.

Practical Zoning Out

Contemplating the whole "zoning out" thing, again.

Unless a behavior is directly toxic or damaging, I have always preferred to work with it, rather than change or delete it. In enneagram circles, the infamous "zoning out" of type Nines always feels (to me) like it is this horrible thing we Nines do.

After more than 20 years of studying the enneagram and using some of the healing tools it offers, I have come to question the "horrors" of zoning out.

I thought to myself "Well, maybe I can USE this to my benefit..."

Over a period years, I experimented with minor behavioral changes when I felt a case of "zoning out" approaching me, from around the corner.

These days, I live by a system of "meaningful zoning out." I neither blame myself, nor disallow zoning out in my life. However, when I do feel the inclination to zone out, I go on autopilot doing necessary things. For example, yesterday I got really tired of some writing projects I needed to work on... and I could feel my attention slipping. So... I allowed my attention to slip. I turned on some moody music, and spent an hour "mindlessly" processing, cutting, editing, color correcting and re-sizing photos for eBay auction. This is an activity that requires NO brain input at all... yet it is also necessary and essential. In essence... I was... practically... zoning out. I NEED those photos... they are essential in my work.

Zoning out is not a bad thing, if you understand how to work with it.

It's a bit like a variation on the whole New Age and Nonduality obsession with how "evil" The Ego is. "Kill the ego!"

No.
Not so much.
Don't be so fucking militant.
WORK with the ego.
The ego keeps you alive.
Without the ego, you'd be a colorless automaton who cared about nothing.
Without the ego, you'd be sitting in the corner with a little drool running from the corner of your mouth.
Talk about the ultimate "zoning out!"

Flat Feelings

On occasion, people have told me that I seem emotionally "flat."

I don't seem to get excited about much of anything. I don't get angry, and I don't get particularly joyful, and not particularly fearful, or aggressive, or anything else.

I have even been told that I don't seem to possess the normal spectrum of human emotions.

I'm not sure what to think about this. Part of the conundrum is that I only have experience with being me, so I am not entirely sure what "normal" means. Certainly, I can observe other people... and I can see them get "affected" by events in way I don't fully understand.

I see someone fly into a rage, or have a meltdown... and I find myself looking that the causal event and thinking to myself "Why is THAT even something to think about, let alone have a meltdown over?"

When I look at those words, I realize it makes me sound callous. I don't mean to be. I can only conclude that other people's emotions burn with a brighter flame than mine.

It's a mystery to me, what it feels like to be "hot blooded." Although... those I look upon as being hot blooded usually insist that they are not.

In the Beginning, there was... a Beginning

In Praise of Specialization...

In general, I need another writing venue about as much as I need a hole in the head. Maybe that's why I need this blog...

Web marketing goo-roo Seth Godin writes that the modern age of the web (and life, in general) is about specialization. It's no good to have a "music site." Nobody cares... music sites are a dime a dozen. How about a music site about reggae music? Still no good. What we actually need... to get to the heart of "what matters," is a level of granularity equivalent to a web site about "Bob Marley's Nose Hair."

The point here being that this site was born out of the fact that my occasional musings about things related to the enneagram-- and specifically to my experience as a Type Nine-- do not belong on any of my other web sites.

So, about these words...

These words are about the direct experience of being an enneagram type Nine. Much has been written about "The Enneagram," but less about individual types. Similarly, much has been written about the enneagram as a teaching to guide people in dealing with their "fixation," but not much has been written merely about the daily interaction between a person and life, from an "enneagrammatic" perspective.

I started studying the enneagram-- originally as a system of "personality types," later as a healing tool-- back in the late 1980's. It has been a helpful tool on my journey... and these are some of my stories.