I almost did something stupid crazy exciting adventurous tonight. But I didn’t. Maybe it was too last-minute. Maybe I was feeling too shy and introverted. Maybe I’m complacent. Maybe I’m too comfortable where I am right now.

Sometimes I wonder when the scales will tip that balance. When — if ever — will I be unsatisfied enough with things to step out of my comfort zone and take those chances?

When will I catch that ride?

I happen to have a chance to write now. It’s raining, so naturally the windows are all open.

My life has been somewhat chaotic lately. Weekends spent being social have been turned into introverted exile, a way of charging my batteries once again. The added benefit is that I have more time to tie up loose ends on my projects. I’m even getting back into the still photo medium again.

I installed these dry-erase marker boards next to my front door. I use them to keep track of my tasks, projects, and errands, so I can come home and immediately decide what I feel like doing. The two silver clips are used for hanging notes and letters.

Nothing feels better than putting that thick black line through a task. Writing on frosted glass is pretty tasty too.

I use the other board for quotes, a way to keep myself motivated — or grounded — every time I pass by on the way in or out of the house. It’s also a nice way for me to practice my hand-drawn typography, by trying to balance characters, words, and lines on the board in different variations in an esthetic manner.

There’s something familiar about this. A feeling like I’ve been here before, not in this situation exactly, but in the middle of the chaos.

All I know for sure is that I feel like I can handle it much better than if this was happening a year ago.

Hello, I’m an introvert.

When going through Psychology 1101 to cover a required science elective, I studied the characteristics of introversion and extroversion, but the material never really resonated with me. As I saw it, there are varying degrees of both, I fit somewhere on the introverted side of the scale, and this was the extent of the application of such a subject.

I can force myself to be social, friendly, cheerful (what Shirley and I call being on), but I can only do this for limited amounts of time. Usually I can keep it going just a few hours for a party or gathering, or as long as a few days as required if we’re out camping or snowboarding, but never longer than this.

The rest of the time I spend in my room, away from the world, because the social interactions of everyday life are a huge drain on me. When I’m alone, I recharge in a way I can’t explain. I’ve spent years feeling guilty for this behaviour. The North American attitude is that there’s something wrong with being quiet or unsocial. The most striking memory I have of this was during frosh week, when others would constantly harass me to go drinking, or dancing, or partying with a bunch of people I had never met before.

Now there’s an explanation that makes more sense to me than a simple degree on a scale. In a recent article, neuroscience researcher Marti Olsen Laney talks about the connections between introversion and biology. “It impacts all areas of their lives: how they process information, how they restore their energy, what they enjoy and how they communicate.”

I realize that there’s a greatly significant correlation between the way I behave and my introverted mindset. Introversion is an attitude that affects almost every aspect of my life, deeply rooted to a physiological level. It isn’t something I should be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

And if I can come out of my shell every now and then, I’ll be alright.