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The enneagram is still all the rage around here. (Okay, I may be the only one actually raging around here, but I do subject my better half to all of the musings in my head.) I wrote about it a few weeks ago–in the days after we dipped our toes into this nifty little test. When I broke down at learning my number (3) and told Chad that I wished I was his number (9). After we took the test, many weeks ago, Chad insisted that I wasn’t a 3.
I think you’re a 4, he told me.
I don’t see it, I responded.
Weeks of exploring and study. Days of learning and discovering. Diving in and listening. Being honest. Being confused.
I read about the “4”. “The Romantic”. “The Idealist”.
I learned the “deadly sin” of the four is envy. Also called the ‘shadow side’.
I like shadow side. . . it seems far less harsh than deadly sin.
I have it figured out now. I’m a “4”.
Maybe?
I think?
I still wish I was like Chad. . . a “9”.
Ah, hello there, Envy.
Sometimes, Chad and I discuss it. Is it nature or nurture? Are we hard-wired this way or did the world mold us this way?
I’m not sure the answers matter that much. It’s a bit like the chicken and the egg–does it really matter which came first?
What does matter, what this little test has helped me understand, is that we–all of us–are complicated souls with stories and histories and make-ups and ticks. We think differently, we feel differently, we act and respond differently.
One is not right, the other not wrong.
One is not better, the other is not worse.
What is good for me is slow, rhythmic, deep breaths, over-thinking.
What is good for you is fast, excitement, moving, speed.
What is good for me is questioning, musing, hashing and rehashing.
What is good for you is moving past, moving through, moving.
One is not good, the other bad.
Both are good. Both are right.
The gift of this test is grace. Grace for me. Grace for you.
I don’t understand you–you who moves so fast. Who fights and races, and goes, goes, goes.
You don’t understand me–me who muses, and thinks, and feels, feels, feels.
There is a right for you. There is a right for me.
We are complicated.
You are too sensitive, I’ve been told.
You need thicker skin, I’ve been instructed.
Maybe it’s true. It probably is. Still, almost 40 years in, it’s hopeless. I’m helpless. Feelings invade. My skin is nearly see-through. There seems to be no escape.
Maybe that’s okay?
I think it is.
It’s okay.
I’m okay. You’re okay.
We are complicated and simple. We are beautiful and messy. We can’t be contained in a number, but the number helps in discovery.
I am not done yet. Neither are you. We are journeying this world, together and separately. We paint with broad strokes and tiny strokes.
The canvas is beautiful with all of us. We are all needed.
I am learning. I understand more today than I did yesterday. The journey will continue and my eyes are as wide open as my heart.
Four or not, the journey toward understanding is worth taking.
