Dear Extroverts

It would be no exaggeration to say I haven’t truly been alone for a very long time. Since I was a young child, I've always craved companionship. In new situations, I would seek it out as soon as possible. Maybe I could go through a class or two solo, but soon enough, I’d find myself with new acquaintances who’d eventually become friends. That drive to connect meant that, wherever I was, I rarely stayed alone for long.

Even when I am alone, I'm not truly alone. My phone is always with me — whether I’m scrolling for directions or flicking through my Instagram feed, something is always “talking” to me, in one way or another. Sitting at a bus stop? Better check when it’s arriving. Walking to the supermarket? Time to confirm I have money in the right account. Wandering down a boring street? Oh, that podcast someone recommended — sounds interesting!

I’ve constructed my life to leave no room for silence. Sometimes, to my embarrassment, I even fall asleep to the sound of my phone or a movie, completing a cycle that takes me from screen to shining screen.

So, no one will be shocked to learn I’m an extrovert. Being around people is easy for me, and being alone often feels disorienting. Studies suggest that isolation leaves extroverts feeling lonely quickly, and I can confirm this. When I’m alone for too long, I start to wonder what's wrong, why people aren’t messaging me, and I obsess over all the ways I may have failed as a friend to end up in even 15 minutes of solitude.

Which makes it all the more surprising that, when celebrating the completion of a big project recently, I treated myself to some solo time at a local bathhouse. I’ve been there many times with a group, and a couple of times with a friend, always connecting, always chatting. (My husband, however, calls it “human soup” and opts out every time!)

The decision was probably a culmination of months of learning about the spiritual discipline of solitude, mixed with the fact that it was a last-minute plan. I dropped Minna off at school, packed a bag, checked the schedule, and headed out — ready for a blissful detox of both toxins and thoughts.

Yet, what I found was a noisy brain and a desire to talk to everyone around me. Thankfully, I restrained myself from asking the nice Spanish girl which tattoo studio had emblazoned that amazing likeness of SpongeBob onto her arm.

After an hour or so, however, something began to shift. Creative ideas, long buried in the back of my mind, started bubbling up. I even started talking to God — probably a reason people avoided talking to me (talking to oneself isn’t the most socially inviting trait).

Here’s the thing: a lot of extroverts don’t know how to be alone well. We don’t know how to fill the space, and we get lonely quickly. From what I understand about the introverts in my life, they don’t feel loneliness right away when spending time alone. And that highlights a strength in the extroverted viewpoint. In solitude as a spiritual practice, loneliness is actually one of its strengths, and we extroverts get there quickly. That loneliness makes us acknowledge our needs: we need people, stimulation, and distractions. But in that need, we come face to face with a deeper truth — our need for God’s grace. A weak spot for extroverts is that we rarely allow ourselves moments of solitude.

Last week at the bathhouse, I managed three hours of solitude with just one ten-minute chat with some very friendly Moldovan men. And I left my phone off the whole time! The outcome was a renewed sense of creativity and a clear sense that God is with me in a simple, quiet way. I left with new ideas that had space to emerge from my subconscious, and I was able to talk to God honestly, without the quick distraction of a Bible verse or Instagram post. I had to lean into the anxiety, and therefore lean deeper into God and my understanding of Him.

I left the bathhouse refreshed, but in a new and expanded way.

While I probably won’t treat myself to a sauna and spa every week, I’ll be looking for other ways to put away the technological noise, step away from people, and just be. Be with myself, and be with God.