I Just Can’t

 

Apparently, Americans are speaking less.  According to two researchers we are talking approximately 28% less than we did fifteen years ago.  We are using less words . . . 330 fewer words are spoken per day, roughly 120,000 less words spoken per year.  The researchers state, “It’s a substantial loss.”  This lack of speaking is a concern especially because the trend seems to be continuing annually. 

It seems that this lack of intercourse between folks is a determent to psychological and social well-being.  Talking contributes to our well-being and sense of belonging.  It eases anxiety.  Helps us to trust others.  Bottom that speaking or talking is a benefit and that this dwindling of intercourse is destroying society.  Logically the means of bucking this trend is to talk more to one another.  So, I am assuming we should all talk more.

 

I can’t . . . I just can’t.  There is no way I can talk more.  I just can’t.

 

It is not difficult to see how this decline in conversation has evolved over the years.  Technology has played a major role.  Smart phones with all their innovative means of connecting people have seen major movement towards texting and messaging apps especially among the young.  Texting seems the way to go for a lot of people.  There’s no real interaction.  I see this with my children.  They would rather text or message than have a real conversation.

 

Also, smart phones are a major distraction.  The average American spends four to five hours a day looking at their phone.  This is about 70 full days per year.  I’m fairly certain that little of that time is spend talking to other people.  Here is how it breaks down:

•      Gen Z averages 6.5 hours a day. 
•      Millennials roughly 4.5 hours a day.
•      Baby Boomers average 3 to 4 hours a day.
•     Teens, at least 20%, average 5 to 8 hours a day.

All are well over the recommended screen time of under two hours per day.  Research shows that people check their phones 58 times a day.  It is hard to converse when one’s nose and attention is focused on a cell phone screen.

Thanks to the Covid pandemic, there is the issue of social isolation.  Americans increasingly spend more time alone and are not as socially engaged.  This follows the trend of more people working remotely.  If you aren’t around people, you are not going to say much.  Technology has contributed by doing lots of tasks once done in person now done online.  Paying bills can be set up online. Retailers struggle as more shopping is done online.  Everything can be done online—who needs people?  That, which has made life more efficient has resulted in less verbal action.  Shoot!  With artificial intelligence (AI) there is no need for people at all. Your best friend can be AI.

 

This all adds up to less human-to-human interaction.  An average person has gone from 16,600 words per day to a measly 12,000 words per day.

 

Honestly, I do not see a problem.  Of course, I am an introvert.  I can do with fewer people and less verbal interaction.  I appreciate the peace and quiet.  Besides, people talk too much.  It was pointed out to me long ago that we should listen twice as much as we speak.  That is why God created humans with two ears and one mouth.  Where the researchers see a problem, I see a blessing.  For that reason, it is frustrating to be urged to take up the mantle and talk more.  I can’t do it.  It’s not in me.  I’m not built for it.

 

Now don’t get me wrong . . . I talk.  When I worked full-time, I spoke as necessitated and required by my employer.  I did my part though I doubt it was anywhere close to 12,000 to 16,600 words a day.  Same as the duties I performed for over 40 years as a pastor.  I spoke when the need came up or it was a part of the duties of ministry.  I can tell you that these verbal bouts wore me out by the end of the day.  By the time I got home in the evening I wanted peace and quiet. Which was okay.  In our marriage the wife is the verbal one.  She is an extrovert and never missed a conversation.  I estimate that she speaks 75% of the time we are together.  I just shake my head a lot.  Because I have two ears, I listen.  It works for us.

 

Socially I talk I greet people with “hello”, but never with “how you doing?”  “How you doing” opens a flood gate for an all-out dissertation.  I don’t have time for that.  I will speak when others speak to me.  That’s respect.  Because of that I tend not to be social.  I have been known to get “talkative” after a couple of beers.  Alcohol lowers inhibitions and makes people chatty.  I’m not inclined to be chatty, and I always regret it the next day when I am.  For the most part to be talkative you need people.  I prefer my own company.  At least I know how the conversation is going to go.  My sister gave me a sweatshirt years ago that said, “Ewww . . . people!”  It is one of my favorite sweatshirts, but it rarely gets worn outside of the house.  People don’t always appreciate humor or sarcasm.  I know, truth hurts.

 

When researchers discover and complain that people don’t talk enough . . . that people are talking to each other less . . . I don’t see the problem.  As far as I am concerned, it is a nice problem to have.  It is quieter.  An introvert’s dream.  When those researchers suggest that people need to talk more . . . well, I get anxious.  Talk more?  That’s a big request.  I’d love to help, but I can’t.  That’s a big ask.  It would mean I would have to get out of my comfort zone.  I would have to actually be around people . . . that I would have to converse . . . to speak.  An introvert’s worse nightmare.  I will let others do the talking.  I am certain that there are plenty of folks out there who can pick up the mantle and speak up a storm.  It is an election year with plenty of talking to go around.  I am sure that these people can do it and make America great once again as “talkers”.  It just won’t be me . . . I just can’t.

 

(Blog based on article by Markham Heid, What We’re Losing by Talking Less, Time magazine, May 25, 2026.)

Misunderstood

As an introvert I have spent a lifetime being misunderstood.  I am not weird.

My sister gave me a hoodie several years ago with a simple phrase across the chest.  It said, “Eww, people”.  I love that sweatshirt.  During the pandemic I was part of a virtual meeting and not thinking, I was wearing that sweatshirt.  Working from home at that time, I didn’t realize what I was wearing.  My boss did and I got an earful following that meeting.  It was inappropriate and gave a misunderstood message to all the other attendees.  It was difficult to sit down the rest of the day.

 

I love that hoodie.  I do not “hate” people.  No, far from it.  I actually love the human race.  I made my living serving people as a pastor for over forty years.  I love people . . . but, if I had a choice, I would prefer being alone to being with people.  Introverts are that way.  Where extroverts get energized by people, introverts get drained.  As I said, I was a pastor for over forty years.  So was my wife.  When we got home from our respective congregations and worship on Sunday mornings, she wanted to fix a big dinner and talk.  I wanted to nap and be silent.

 

Don’t assume that just because I am an introvert and wear a hoodie with “Eww, people” emblazoned across the front that I am anti-people.  I am not.  I just like my people in small numbers (really small numbers) for short periods of time.  I am not anti-social.  I am an introvert.

 

Introverts enjoy silence and alone time.  This is something that extraverts don’t seem to understand.  It is estimated that two-thirds of the world’s population is extroverted.  This tendency towards silence and being alone is often viewed negatively by the more exuberant extroverts.  It is not . . . silence and being alone is where introverts thrive.  So, cut us some slack.  Forgive us if we don’t answer the doorbell or the first knock because you want to visit unexpectedly.  Remember you are coming unannounced to invade our sanctuary of solitude.  Warn us you are coming.  Give us time to prepare . . . or leave town.  Just don’t come knocking on our doors expecting to be greeted with open arms. 

 

Same with phones.  Introverts dislike phones because they too interrupt the solitude of our sanctuaries.  On the Myers-Briggs Personality Inventory test that is used to determine personality type—including introversion/extroversion—one of the main questions is: When the phone rings do you: (A) answer it immediately, or (B) let it ring until someone else answers it.  I always hoped that someone else would answer it.  Now with cell phones the introvert can screen calls.  If it ain’t an emergency—leave a message.  Or text.  Phone calls require a lot of emotional energy for introverts.  For introverts phone calls are annoying.  Who wants to talk to an annoyed person—text and be safe.

 

Another annoyance for introverts comes in the area of communication.  Introverts can talk . . . can communicate despite what seems to be to the contrary.  Take note:

1.   Introverts don’t like small talk.  Conversations take time and energy.  Introverts prefer conversations that allow them to go deeper in relationships with other people.  Talk of the weather or the latest sports score is tedious, draining, and even annoying.  Introverts are tolerant folks and realize that small talk is a part of socialization.  That is probably why they don’t socialize too much.

2.   Interruptions.  If you are talking to an introvert, then let them speak.  Introverts typically think before they speak.  Give them time.  Try not to interrupt them.  Don’t fill in the silent pauses.  Don’t change the subject before they’ve had a chance to respond.  Extroverts don’t like silence, so they are constantly interrupting—DON’T!  Introverts can speak if given the chance.  I know it is hard for extroverts to be patient and do this, but they can do it.

One of the greatest misconceptions I confront in my life as an introvert is when it comes to “space”.   I value “my space” whether it is physical, psychological, or spiritual.  I need my “space”.  Extroverts do not understand this concept of “space” because the whole world is a playground for social interaction.  Introverts need their own “space” to recharge, regroup, and center themselves—alone.

I live in what I consider a spacious house—five bedrooms, living room, kitchen, laundry room, family room, and two bathrooms.  Plenty of room for my wife and me.  You would think that “space” would not be an issue with us.  But remember, my spouse is an extrovert.  The house is her domain and playground. Most of the house and its décor reflect her and her extroversion.  Plus, she is always where I am in the house wanting to talk and interact.  It is draining!

 

In John Prine’s song, Angel from Montgomery, he sings these lyrics:

 

How the hell can a person

Go to work in the morning

And come home in the evening

And have nothing to say?

 

Because they are introverts!

 

Fortunately, my wife understands, and I have been graced with a room of my own—a sanctuary.  It is not a “man cave”.  The family calls it my “office”.  It is lined with books, sentimental pictures on the walls, and my computer. And there is no television or radio.  There is Alexa, but she lost her voice long ago as she is always upstairs talking to my wife.  This is my sanctuary.  My place of peace.  My silent domain.  Often the family forgets that I’m even home because it is so quiet. But that is how I like it despite the music blaring. the television ranting, and people wanting to talk.  I am granted this gift because those who know me know that if John ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.  Even our dogs respect this.

 

The only place of sanctuary in the house is the bathroom.  Often, I can hide away in the quiet stillness of the bathroom to regroup and re-energize.  I go in, shut and lock the door, and take a seat.  Sometimes I read a book.  Sometimes I just sit and think.  Whatever the case, there is silence, and I am alone.  Of course, the bathroom also serves other purposes and can be in demand.  I have learned to respect a sudden knock on the door with the question, “Are you okay in there?”  Sure, give me five more minutes and life will be good.  I think the family thinks I am constipated.  I am not, I am an introvert.

 

And . . . that’s it.  I am not weird.  Not strange.  I am an introvert.  And, if you ask another introvert, they will tell you that I am quite normal.  I am misunderstood.  Two-thirds of the world looks at introverts as aliens invading their world . . . or being party poopers running away from the festivities.  But we introverts are normal . . . we just need our peace and quiet.  Give us that and you’d be surprised at how different we can be in a social context . . . as long it is it only a few people, doesn’t involve a lot of time, and we are given fair warning.  We can have as much fun as anyone else.  Trust me, I know.  I’ve done it a few times. I survived.  Everyone survived.  It’s been a couple of years, but I think I’m about ready to try again.  I am not weird, I am misunderstood.  I am an introvert.

 

Giving Thanks?

In a couple of days there will be a gathering in our home to celebrate a day of giving thanks . . . Thanksgiving.  Around the table will be most of the family . . . the granddaughter . . . some of the children’s in-laws and their family . . . and, the two Dachshunds.  The table will be spread with the full compliment of food befitting a Thanksgiving dinner.  There will be a turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, cranberries and cranberry sauce, gravy, rolls, cornbread casserole . . . the whole nine-yards.  Plus it will be almost one hundred percent organic because it is good for our health, though my wallet would say that it isn’t help it much.  We will pause, join hands, and give thanks . . . and, with the “Amen” all hell will break loose.

As an introvert, crowds bother me . . . especially crowds that gather in my domain.  I like people, but not all at once.  But, this is an annual expectation from the female side of the family, and one that I must endure.  Now, do not get me wrong.  I love my family.  I love my children’s in-laws, they are practically full-fledged family—they are good people.  I love the feast.  I even love the two Dachshunds who will be hanging out by the granddaughter who hasn’t quite mastered the art of keeping her food on the plate yet.  It is just that I do not always want them all in my life at one time.  Because of that, the wife has given me ample time to prepare myself for the big day.

Part of that preparation has to do with what happens after the “Amen”.  Of course there will be the usual mauling of the turkey and all of the trimmings.  It will be the usual feast of stuffing the participants.  I can handle that . . . it is all of the stuff around the feast that I need to get a handle on . . . stuff like having to talk to one another . . . having a conversation.  I am not always great at conversation . . .

A couple of years ago, the big Thanksgiving feast took place at our daughter’s in-laws.  There were the two families, including the grandparents on her husband’s side of the family.  Our son-in-law’s grandfather is a graduate of the University of Montana in Missoula.  This makes him a great big Griz fan.  Me, well, I never grew up in Montana and thus I have no allegiance to either of the football powers in Montana . . . I don’t care to be a Griz or a Bobcat fan when it comes to football . . . I am a diehard Cornhusker fan.  Little did I realize how seriously they take their Grizzly football among the alumni. 

Taking advantage in the lull of conversation at the table I ask the son-in-law’s grandfather—the Griz fan, if he had seen the prediction for the Grizzly football season in the newspaper.  He replied no.  I said, “Nine and two . . . nine acquittals and two convictions.”  Of course that was the year that the Grizzly football team was getting into a lot of trouble with the law in Missoula.  Needless to say, Grandpa did not appreciate the joke.  Haven’t seen him at a family Thanksgiving since.  Do you see what I am trying to say?  Do you understand why I need time to prepare for these big gatherings?

I found an article about eight things that you should never say at a Thanksgiving dinner.  Those eight things are:

--“Well somebody likes the stuffing.”  I am not a stuffing person.  The wife is making the stuffing this year.  I live with the wife.  I will cram the stuffing down no matter how much I dislike it.  Thank goodness for gravy . . . gravy makes anything edible.  But, I will not be the one saying anything about any of the food on the table.  I like sleeping in my bed.

--“Do you know what they do to the turkey before it’s slaughtered?”  Well, since our turkey is organic, I imagine that it died of old age.  Most folks do not care where their food comes from . . . they just want to eat it.  As far as I know, there are no PETA carrying card members gathering around our table . . . it just has to be organic.  Our turkey is full of peace, love, and harmony.

--“Can you pass the yams, and I’m dropping out of law school.”  Yams . . . sweet potatoes . . . not coming from my lips.  I don’t like either of them.  Nor will I announce that I am dropping out of law school.  I don’t think that is the actual point behind this statement . . . the point is that one should not announce earth-moving announcements at the Thanksgiving table.  It kind of puts a damper on the festivities . . . besides, we would never allow a lawyer to the table.  Yeah, I know, we claim to be Christians, but we do have to draw the line somewhere.

--“Are you sure you need another glass of wine?”  Don’t even ask.  Yes, I need another glass of wine . . . I am an introvert and self-medicating might be the only way I make it. 

--“I’m thankful that after Tom’s affair, he and I were able to work through our issues and move forward.”  Well, good for her and Tom . . . more power to them . . . whoever they are.  Again, another bombshell dropped on the table.  Apparently bombshells are not acceptable at the Thanksgiving table . . . even acquittals and convictions.    The past is the past and it is best to leave those moans and groans there.  Besides, there will be plenty of wine to go around from the bottle.

--“And I’m thankful that most of my kids were able to take time out of their busy schedules to spend Thanksgiving with their mother (father).  Even if you can only stay for one night.”  Hey, as an introvert . . . one night is good for me.  Actually, I am quite sad that not all of my children and their spouses could make it to the big deal.  I really miss the two of them.  I also am thankful for whoever can gather around the table . . . and, if that is only for a day or two, so be it.  We will make the most of it, but I won’t complain if they have to go home early.

--“Do you have any salt?”  Hey!  This is fair game at our table.  Ever since the wife went on a health kick to keep herself and me healthy, salt has disappeared in her cooking.  Asking for salt is not a statement about the food sucking.  Far from it . . . especially for those of us who grew up salting first and asking second.  The wife keeps a shaker by my plate . . . she is a good wife.

--“I really miss Grandma’s pumpkin pie.”  Well, I miss Grandma, but she can keep the pumpkin pie.  I don’t like pumpkin pie . . . in fact, I am not even a big dessert person.  Trust me, I won’t be saying anything about the pumpkin pie other than, “Ewwww!”  Besides, I can handle the scorn of being un-American and passing on the pumpkin pie.

As good as those were, I have a few more I would add:

--Politics.  I think you understand this one. 

--Religion.  Yes, the wife and I are ordained clergy, but we just want to enjoy the food, family, and fellowship without having a debate about whether Jesus walked on water or knew where all the rocks were in the lake.

--Future plans of the adult children.  This one usually pits the children against the parents . . . expectations never mesh up with reality.

--Work.  That is something I left at the office at 5:00PM on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and there is a reason I left it there.

--Jokes about Grizzly football . . . or Nebraska football . . . or any football.

I think I will survive.  I usually do.  As I stated earlier, we will all gather at the table, join hands and give thanks . . . and, there is much to be thankful for.  For each individual gathered around our table, I am thankful that they are a part of my life.  For the food placed upon the table for the big feast, I am thankful that I have food to eat because there are many who cannot.  For the fellowship of the moment, there will be laughter, teasing, and great fun . . . I am thankful that I am not alone.  For the opportunity . . . even as an introvert . . . I am thankful.  Though I probably do not say it enough, I am thankful.  The little girl in the cartoon is right, we need to be thankful more than one day a year.  Hopefully we remember that as we give thanks.