#makeitwork

I’m an introvert.

Most days, when the clock rolls around 7:00 (yes, that is the end of my 10 hour work day, yours too if you’re in college), it is not people that cheer me up. I do not want to be in social company. I want trashy music, loads of spaghetti, my netflix, and a stone quiet apartment. I need to recharge before I go back out, for my own sanity and for the sanity of everyone else. I need small bouts of introspection and relaxation. I prefer a day at the park with Chuckie P. over hanging it at the MOA.

I am not an extrovert. I do not “feed” off of other people’s energy. This is the way I’ve most often heard extroversion explain, and it creeps me out.  To be certain, I like discussion, and I’m fairly outgoing, just not in all the places.

There tends to be a distinct implicit prejudice against introversion in a lot of places, despite the fact that so many people are introverts. We are looked on as a disabled people, crippled by our need to inspect ourselves and relax away from people.

My boyfriend is an extrovert. He lives in a house with lots of people and he’s constantly by someone. This would literally drive me into some sort of awkward depression and hate against the world and society and everything that was ever mean or beautiful or injusticed! He has made it well aware to me that if he were me, he would likewise spiral into a weird funk.

Making these two things mesh is not that easy. It is not like fitting together poultry with a white sauce and pasta. It is not like fitting together figure and ground in an Escher painting. It is not like fitting together dovetails in carpentry. It’s a little like yin and yang.

This is probably the key to any relationship. My boy and I sometimes are absolute polar opposites, but it’s about how we make it work that matters. We don’t meet at a middle ground. We meet by intertwining, by compromising, by becoming interdependent. Sometimes I sacrifice my reboot time and sometimes he sacrifices his ungodly amount of social interaction. But his support is more important than any time I could spend doing my introvert thing. So it’s worth it.

 

Infinitesimal Quantities

Loyal Readers,

I have been spending some time away. Been busy diving deep into physics and ochem, and spending a lot of time tutoring and observing in a local middle school. This has been a fantastic month.

My first physics quiz is tomorrow. We’re talking about things like continuous charge distributions. Often the first helpful step is to draw your picture, and include the infinitesimal quantities. Like dE, dQ, dL, etc. It reminded me of a post I drafted not too long ago, but was inspired to finish and post now. 

The current average lifetime for a person on earth is 67.2 years. My chemistry teacher would often comment, “That’s a pretty long time. You know, because it’s the longest amount of time you can experience.”

Yet we still manage to experience life as flying by us, but only when it’s done so. We pass through mandatory public education (if given the option). We fall in love. We try new things, eat an enormous amount of food, drink gallons upon gallons of water, and trek thousands of miles. We go to work, or something like it, to change the world and provide. These are a lot of things to do, to dream, to imagine.

But even as a college undergraduate, I have a hard time remembering elementary school. That was less than 20 years ago.

At the first Campus Atheists, Skeptics, and Humanists (CASH) meeting I went to, everyone calmly explained their journey. Where they started, what they believed then and now, and how they go about their lives. One person’s story included an idea I had thought about, but I want to share it. It’s exciting.

Say you’ve lived your life for 67.2 years. You’ve been a good human, and now have the courtesy to go to heaven. You’re in awe and amazement at everything heaven has to offer, and you’re gracious for being a good person to God for being so kind.

Imagine 10 years has passed.

Imagine 50 years has passed.

Imagine 100 years has passed. You’ve been in heaven longer than you were on Earth. Surely your lifetime is beginning to be hazy. Surely you’ve done a lot of things in heaven.

Imagine 500 years has passed.

Imagine 1,000 years has passed.

Imagine 1 trillion years has passed. Your lifetime was 67.2 years. That is 0.0000000000672% of your time in heaven. Do you understand how small that is? You probably do…you understand numbers. But this is incredibly hard to conceive in our minds.

Time will continue in heaven forever. Your life will become an infinitesimal slice in the entirety of your existence. Yet, that infinitesimal slice contained the complement of your thoughts, actions, and words that resulted in you being in heaven. To me, this is absolute absurdity.

It becomes even more absolutely absurd when you realize that the complement of your time on earth could contribute to an eternity of fire, pain, brimstone, sulfur, and excruciating torture in hell.

When you think upon it, think critically. This is a pathetic attempt to convert you through your emotions. Do not succumb.