Tag: self-actualisation

  • This is why you can’t judge me

    Ok, that title is deliberately dramatic because this is generally a dramatic topic. After sneering at the fandom around the Myers Briggs personality tests I finally decided to take it myself, if for no reason other than the fact that I was curious to know how I would be defined. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that out of three of the four dimensions, they could not define me. I’ve sat amused for a long time watching people trying to determine their personality types based on this test, but was not so amused when they started judging others based on the same info. So I had a quiet chuckle at the thought of their facial expressions when they discovered that they still had no credible basis against which to judge me.

    Out of the sixteen possible personality types, I ended up with a result that says that I could be either of eight of them. Scrolling through the eight options I could easily relate to each of them, which I guess adds to the credibility of the test, but denies answers to those that would wish to have me defined in a way that makes interactions more predictable. However, self-indulgence aside, the most important realisation for me was the fact that in the one dimension where I was defined, I realised that by implication it is the one dimension in which I do not have sufficient balance.

    The report indicated that my scores were ‘borderline’ in the three dimensions of extravert versus introvert, feeler versus thinker, and judger versus perceiver. I interpret these outcomes as suggesting that I am adaptable or balanced relative to the norm. The dimension where I’m not balanced is where they identify my strengths or preferences as being intuitive rather than sensing. This is true. I’m often focused on the patterns of behaviour, or the sequence of events that hint at possible future outcomes, and so end up being rather insensitive to the emotional investments that others have made. When patterns are the focus, the immediate emotional impact is easy to ignore. There is relevance in understanding emotional responses, but most often I resign it to a waste of time that doesn’t change the outcome of what we’re faced with. I guess that’s the proof that I lack balance in this dimension.

    I wonder if others that have taken the test view their results in the same way? I wonder how many realise that it is merely an indication of preferences of behavior in their current state, and does not necessarily define who they are, or who they will be? Do they realise the difference between preference of behaviour versus subconscious predisposition and the important state of mindfulness that determines our awareness of the two? Too few appear to use it as a tool for reflection and growth, while most use it to determine their fit in relationships or groups; or worse they use it to measure the worth of others.

    The problem with people that don’t fit the molds of society is that they don’t easily fit anywhere in society either. It also means that they are often misunderstood in intent, and would therefore be assumed to be something other than what they are or intend to be. (Cue violins and harps.) No, that’s not my attempt at being sensitive, it’s more an observation of a reality that many like me face, while most feel justified in their judgemental attitude towards people like me. In other words, anyone that doesn’t fit their preferred models are automatically shunned or avoided. Unfortunately, because the number of people that break the mold are the minority, the pervasive ignorance of the majority results in the devaluation of the contribution of those that are best positioned to contribute something unique. It’s that uniqueness of contribution that drives the world forward, while the collusion of the majority serve as nothing more than a preservation of the status quo, or often even results in a degradation of the current state that we find ourselves in.

    For its entertainment value, here’s the summary of my test results:

    • May be an Extravert or an Introvert
    • Intuitive, not Sensing
    • May be a  Feeler or a Thinker
    • May be a Judger or a Perceiver

    Due to the number of inconclusive responses above, I was listed to have 8 possible personality types. These include:

    • ENFJ – The Teacher
    • ENFP – The Champion
    • ENTJ – The Commander
    • ENTP – The Visionary
    • INFJ – The Counselor
    • INFP – The Healer
    • INTJ – The Mastermind
    • INTP – The Architect

    Details of each of the above can be found on the Truist website that I linked to at the beginning of this article. I’m curious to know if any of you may have an opinion on whether or not any of the above is easily recognisable through my writing? Or perhaps even share your thoughts on your experiences with this personality test, and how it may have shaped your perspectives, or interactions with others?

  • What Am I?

    I once heard that if you intend to be good at something, you should repeat it to yourself as if you are, and not as if you wish to be. The intent to be isn’t always followed up by action, but by stating that you are what you wish to be, you condition yourself to behave as that, rather than who you are, or were. At the time of hearing this I was particularly poor at professional networking, and I recall using that as the statement of conviction for myself. As part of that exercise I stated quite boldly, “I am adept at professional networking!” I don’t think it worked.

    I still suck at it, but I do venture into that space more readily than before. However, at the risk of potentially contradicting what I said in The Placebo Effect, I think when we tell ourselves that we are something we’re not, but we have a sincere intention of achieving it, it prompts us to consciously act within the behavioural norms of that which we wish to be, rather than in the ways that may have inhibited our progress in that direction. I think it’s called cognitive dissonance.

    With this in mind, I’ve recently been bold enough to tell people that I’m a part time writer. Only problem is, I know I say it with a lacking conviction. I’m more a rambler than I am a writer. Having a collection of thoughts with a reasonable grasp of the language is hardly the makings of a writer. In attempting to start in earnest on a book recently, I realised the discipline and monotony involved in seeing such a project through.

    I’ve always quipped that if ever I wrote a book, I would sit down, start, and continue non-stop for a few days until I was done. I think a few years ago that may have still been possible, but given the level of noise and clutter now, it’s just a pipe dream.

    My thoughts are lacking in congruence now, and setting out for such an endeavour leaves me filled with frustration and impatience rather than a sense of composed expression. The result is a lot of noise that echoes my mental state rather than creating the clarity or comfort of being sufficiently expressed. In this state, making the bold statement that I am a writer leaves me feeling conflicted and insincere, rather than authentic.

    I sometimes read through my previous rambles and often cannot recognise it as being a part of me. People sometimes quote me in their correspondence to me and I end up agreeing with them as if it’s a point they made, which must seem quite superficial for them. If only they knew that my own words and thoughts often feel foreign to me. For this reason, among many others, I find it increasingly difficult to define myself as a writer, part-time or otherwise. In fact, I find it difficult to define myself at all. Such definition must dictate consistency, and consistency is something I do not subscribe to outside of my spheres of responsibility or duty.

    I guess the question relating to what I am will remain unanswered for the foreseeable future. Perhaps forever. Perhaps I’ll never afford the comfort to those around me to allow them to perceive me as a complete and finite being. Maybe in that lies part of the problem, not just for me but for all of us faced with this same question. If it was not for our need to be perceived as a specific being, we would have no need to define ourselves. I can only imagine that such absence of definition will be liberating and congruent with the nature of things around us, because it will afford a level of adaptability that definition, by definition, denies us. What a futile pursuit it is to feel compelled to act against our nature simply because the frailty of society dictates that such behaviour is necessary for predictable outcomes.