Introspection of introversion

My sister, who is not as much of an introvert as I am, sent me, who is more of an introvert than she is, a link to one of many metadata sites that contains a popular cartoon guide to understanding introverts.

http://atchuup.com/how-to-understand-introverted-people/

It is a fairly good description, somewhat oversimplified, but I support the effort of any introvert, or extrovert, to try and understand introversion, and to communicate that understanding. I believe we are at a point in history where this understanding is critical because, as we are redefining our roles within the Information Age, many of us are gravitating towards introversion anyway. I am observing more and more people, particularly younger people, who behave like I do.

Does an introvert actually have Asperger Syndrome or ADHD or could some cases simply be a manifestation of the skills necessary to exist in the Information Age? Are we treating a disease or a personality? Are we medicating a disorder or a shift in a societal paradigm?

Maybe we should invent a drug that cures people of our pathological inability to look up from our mobile devices, because, let's face it, we all look like fools.

One of my favorite movies is a film by the guy who did "Boyhood", Richard Linklater, and it is called "Waking Life". It is just a collection of vignettes without a real plot, discussing intimate and interesting ideas. One vignette features a writer friend of Linklater, Kim Krizan, and she discusses the need to create as a need to communicate, and a need to communicate as a need to be intimately understood, and how difficult it is to be understood though language and words. I don't know if everyone feels this way, but for me, this passage describes the root of who I am and what motivates me:

Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration. And this is where I think language came from. I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival. Like, you know, "water." We came up with a sound for that. Or "Saber-toothed tiger right behind you." We came up with a sound for that. But when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love? When I say "love," the sound comes out of my mouth and it hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, you know, through their memories of love or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying and they say yes, they understand. But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert. They're just symbols. They're dead, you know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable. And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we've connected, and we think that we're understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.

Interactions that are intimate and interesting. Feeling understood and understanding others. Anything beyond that feels like a waste of time and energy. Once that transient moment of understanding is shared with another, it is time to end the conversation and recharge. Time to go back and learn, or experience, something new again, alone, so that, at the next encounter, there something new to share and understand. This drives a need to create and a need to pursue new ideas. If these are the traits of an introvert then I am an introvert. But first and foremost, I am me.