Up, up, and away.

Hot air balloon

“Who is this person?” The person gabbing and joking with the attendants at our local ‘dump;’ assisting an older woman (older than me, anyhow) who appears lost in our neighborhood; calling county government for answers to really, really (really) boring zoning questions (but important to our neighborhood); joking around with a couple of FedEx employees as if we’ve known each other forever. We haven’t.

WHO is this person? OMG, it’s me! I’m the one gabbing, inquiring, waving to everyone. It’s me. No, no, I don’t imbibe or smoke. At all. How did this happen? How?

I’m an introvert, for heaven sakes! Need I spell that out for you? I-n-t-r-o-v-e-r-t. Got it? All the activities I’ve shared are, generally, behavioral byproducts of being an extrovert. Being out there. I Am An Introvert.

(Just a reminder, Jan, yelling at the universe is not going to change your current behavioral conundrum.)

Labels, labels, labels. Yours truly’s label has always, always, been introvert. Rather reserved, internal, revels in solitude. Must I diss the results of all those Myers-Briggs personality tests I’ve taken over the years? Did the academics get it wrong? (Don’t worry, academics, I’m not coming for you.)

But, but, where did my raucous laugh come from? My inclination to butt into social interactions in order to juice them up to a higher level of shared laughter? To epitomize that iconic Winnie The Pooh quote : “Nobody can be uncheered by a ballon.” As I blaze my way through stores, offices, heck, just about anywhere, I’m occasionally amazed and wonder “Just who is this mouthy, smiling person? It can’t be me.”

It is me. And you know what? It’s a me I like. Never, ever would’ve expected this, but there she is. A me who has learned over the years that I like being acknowledged by others. In fact, most folks like being acknowledged, as well. (I bet you do, too. C’mon, admit it.) Feels great. I just light up when greeted, even by those I don’t know. So nice to be seen. One heck of a cheap high. My acquired high then spreads to other folks with whom I come in contact. Ripple, ripple. Is that so bad?

Ok, ok, you’ve got me pegged. I like cheap highs, ergo, my dark chocolate addiction. I get high and happy. But since not everyone likes chocolate (or its cost), there are, indeed, other options.

Recalling my childhood fondness for Peter Pan’s fairy, Tinker Bell, and how I loved her wand-spreading light. I don’t know if it’s a fair(y) trade-off, but Tinker Bell’s fairy dust allowed people to fly. No flying available to us (as far as I know), but our human, smiling, acknowledgment of folks, just passing through our lives, can provide them with a lift in a challenging world. You onboard?