Do you know anything about the Enneagram? It’s this ancient system of categorizing personalities into nine groups. I was introduced to it only recently, and I learned that I am a type 3, The Achiever. Basically, this means I am driven + ambitious + fun to be around (according to the test, anyway). There are lots of benefits of being a Three, like I can read a room pretty well, but I also attach my self-worth to achievement. I’m overly concerned with the way things look and can be deceptive.
It also means I am a chameleon, that my personality is fluid and can change radically depending on who THIS room needs me to be.
I’m in my 30s, y’all, and I’m just now understanding how exhausting this is.
I’m also STARTing to understand that I don’t have to be a mirror image of other people in order for them to like me or consider me or cast me. I’m already doing okay—funny enough, smart enough, good enough. I don’t need to be a reflection of you, too.
I was in a room recently, watching a performance and LOVING it. HERE for it. So entertained by it.
And I looked around the room at the other people watching, and they were so BORED. Over it. This was business as usual, the magic that was happening. Yawn.
And here’s the thing: the Lauren of yesteryear (literally last year, before I started to understand all this helpful and intrusive junk about my personality) would’ve taken that as a cue. I should not be so easily entertained. I should not be so easily moved.
But why not? Who does that serve? Does the world need more cynicism?
Every job I take or opportunity that I am given, especially those that level me up, makes me giddy with excitement. I am thrilled beyond reason to get to do what I do, on any level. But this industry is tough, and some of the most talented people I know have been hardened to the magic by the grind.
I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want the grind to build up callouses on my heart, steeling me against the world, making me roll my eyes at something that might’ve brought joy otherwise.
I want to remain soft, flexible. My outrage saved for true injustice, I want my daily perspective to be through lenses of awe, of contentment.
I GET to be a magic maker. As long as that continues to be true, I hope that the grind softens me, scrubs away the callouses and leaves me vulnerable, open.
Full of wonder.