I know. That headline. It sounds like I swiped it from the blurb on the back of a romance novel, doesn’t it?
Actually, romance novels are a good place to start with this post. I used to read them years ago. There’s some interesting psychology at play in the writing of a romance novel. Women are verbal in the same way that men are visual. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, I’m not sure about the heart and stomach, but I think the quickest route to his nether regions passes through his eyes. For women, we get swept up in words.
Husbands, your tendency may be to worry about the best-looking guy around your wife. You’d be better off watching out for a silver tongue over a set of six pack abs. Just pointing that out.
And drama. Sweet mother of pearl, do some of us find drama irresistible or what? I know I do. Drama is difficult to resist.
Drama creates tension. Drama keeps you turning those pages. Drama drives social media. It keeps your tired eyes glued to your monitor, waiting for the next status, or comment, or tweet, or retaliatory blog post. When our first world problems get boring, there’s always good old drama to keep things interesting.
Drama incites passion, and passion is motivation. Passion is energy.
Energy is neither good nor bad. But it is necessary for action. An excess of passion and drama and energy can be exhilarating or exhausting. Passion and energy directed at the wrong things can be destructive.
As an INFP, I tend to be an emotionally-driven person. The problem with being motivated by passion is that sometimes (maybe a lot of the time) the tail ends up wagging the dog. Instead of harnessing your emotions and passion to pursue good goals, you just let them master you. You get addicted to drama.
Trust me, neither passion nor drama is a kind and loving master.
When I’m exhausted and fried from letting my emotions drag me behind them like I’m a string of tin cans and they’re a newlywed couple’s Buick LeSabre, I want peace. I cry out for peace. I beg for it.
I retreat from relationships, even healthy ones.
I get all contemplative.
I analyze myself to death. I bury myself in objective distance and perspective.
In short, I run and hide.
After a while, I get bored. Peace, quiet and rest are nice when you need them, but it’s easy to get restless when you’ve had more than you need. That restlessness can lead you to seeking out drama, and start the whole cycle all over again.
I do think we were made for a rhythmic life; rest and action, peace and passion, like the back and forth aspiration of the tide.
I’d just rather be surfing that tide with intention than caught up and dragged by it.