literature

What Becomes of the Introvert?

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Literature Text

What becomes of the renegades
and their late-night ways?

What has solitude earned them
that others might envy?

A friendship with the stars?
A kinship with the moon?

Who are those aloof few
who discern the abstract?

They are the introverts.
The thinkers.

They tinker and toy as they toil,
burning their midnight oil for an idea.

They are the shy minority,
the mysterious, lost in solemn thought,

solving all the world's problems
as if it were no trouble at all.

How do they survive?
How do they endure

in an extroverted world,
which cares more for the unreserved?

They feed on knowledge
and thrive on philosophy,

perspicuity,
pertinacity.

They need no approval
and ask for no attention.

They are the untiring dreamers,
the silent creators of invention.

So be kind to the expert thinkers,
those taciturn sages,

for without the introverts' work,
how would humanity have made it?
This is my fourteenth entry for NaPoWriMo.

I was a little late today. I had to write this one extemporaneously as my cache of ideas has grown low. (was that bombastic enough? LOL)

I watched a TED talk about introverts and how many people discourage introverted behavior. Children in schools are taught to not work alone, to be more outgoing, and extroverted.

But the problem is this: Most of the greatest minds the world has ever seen were introverts. Einstein, Warren Buffett, Frederic Chopin, Charles Darwin, Mahatma Gandhi, Sir Isaac Newton, J.K. Rowling (just to name a few) were/are all introverts.

It's ok to be the quiet one. It's fine to need some "alone time." It's normal and acceptable. So the next time someone asks you, "Why are you so quiet?" Say with pride, "Because, I'm an introvert." :)
© 2012 - 2024 RiFlight
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