As a goal-oriented, closure-seeking INFJ, the growth process can be challenging. I want to have arrived now. To know the lesson now. To be aware of the ending now. Submitting to a process is often a struggle for me. I want to rush through all the steps to achieve a final product. I forget that a solid building requires a sturdy foundation, solid wood, accurately-placed nails, and a host of projects that necessitate keen attention to detail. You wouldn't want to buy a house that was built in a day (unless, perhaps, it was a tiny house).
I like when my life feels settled. Loose ends make me anxious. Ambiguity causes minor panic. When circumstances are out of my control, I can get a little crazy--overanalyzing, ruminating, contemplating, plotting. My mind goes into overdrive as I consider all the various ways a scenario could turn out. And by worrying, somehow I think that I am taking control of the situation. Too bad my worrying seems to muddle a situation more than remedy it.
I see a flaw in myself, one that alarms me and embarrasses me. I care more about the end result than I do the steps taken to get there. While I am a fan of self-discovery and the process of getting to know oneself, everything that happens outside of my own consciousness feels scary and uncertain, and that is when I stop being interested in processes. I would rather immediately know outcomes than gradually progress through stages that I cannot control.
I know that not all growth can come from within. We go through periods of growth as a result of circumstances, people, the environment, etc. We are not immune to the effects and influence of the external world. But so often I wish I could manage and dictate those effects and that influence. I suppose what I'm really saying is that I'm afraid, and that I'd rather shield myself and avoid dangers than face a life of vulnerability.
Today, my friend told me that it seems as though I purposefully place myself in situations where I am shielded from the get-go, so that there is never the risk or option of being vulnerable. I avoid opportunities to drop my shield, and instead cling to two types of existence: the internal world of my own consciousness, and the part of the external world where it would be unsafe for me to let my guard down. I altogether avoid a third type of existence: the external world where it is safe for me to venture unguarded. I'm not even sure I know how to be in the external world without a shield.
Admitting my reluctance to be vulnerable makes me feel vulnerable. Or, perhaps I feel vulnerable admitting to the external world that I live a shielded life. I say I want to change, but do I? Dropping the shield means being exposed, and that is the thing I am most terrified of. But what about being exposed is so terrifying? The potential to be hurt, rejected, or abandoned? Do I cling to familiar complacency because I'd rather know no change than risk being wounded? Am I not harming myself anyway by avoiding growth?
And that is what it all comes down to--if I avoid the process, I avoid change. I either want to see immediate results that demand no pathway of vulnerability, or I want to maintain the status quo. Despite the fact that I claim I want my life to change, in reality I live in a way that reflects a desire to keep everything the same. Don't rock the boat. Don't stir the waters. Just leave everything be. Don't seek change--you'll just be wounded. Stay in your comfortable little shell forever.
They say that with great risk comes great reward. I am trying to think back on the greatest risks I've taken. Has great reward followed? Often, pain has followed. And maybe that is why I am now scared to risk, because historically my risks have not always turned out as hoped. But would I not take the risks if given second chances? I think that I would, because despite the pain that has often followed each risk, growth has followed too. And without those risks I would not be who I am today, and I am quite proud of where I've come from and who I've become.
I also must acknowledge that there will be times I take risks and embrace vulnerability, and it won't be pain that follows, but joy. So while I certainly avoid getting hurt by shielding myself from risk, I also avoid potentially the deepest joy I could ever know. And I am tired of living my life on the sidelines, longing for the kind of existence that embraces risk and all the joys and sorrows that come with it. I want to dive into the process, and leave the safety of this shell I have so carefully constructed for myself. I want change.
Isaiah 55:22 (NIV)You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
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