INFP Introverts: The 64-Color Box

The other day, I listened to my daughter, 8, explain to my son, 6, how she was going to save the world. Her plan, as she tells it, is to close all the meat packing plants when she grows up. She’s going to make mass butchering of animals illegal and, likely, throw everyone who has ever worked at a packing plant in jail.

It was at about that point when the “voice of reason” entered the conversation. I’m not even going to attempt to analyze exactly where this voice of reason comes from for the moment but it was, quite obviously, being channeled through me.

“Now Maddie,” I heard myself saying, “Do you really think it would be fair to actually throw people in jail for working at a packing house? People need jobs, honey. People need to feed their families.”

And her reply was exactly what mine would have been at the age of eight.

“So. People should get jobs that don’t involve torturing and killing animals.”

But the “voice of reason” went on. “You can’t punish people for it. Everyone has to make a living. And I know it seems cruel, all those poor cattle squashed into those tiny pens, spending their final hours…”

She was muttering by that time. A quick glance in the rear-view mirror and I could see her little arms folded across her chest, her brow furrowed, “…just like killing people…no different…why people think they can be so mean…”

I shut that “voice of reason” up as I watched that fire of passion flicker and dim. It was as if she boxed it up and pulled it tight against her, hiding it from people like me, people who would encourage her to be “reasonable” and just accept that sometimes life is as life is, that bad things happen for a reason and there’s no use in asking people to change.

We rode in silence for far too long.

“You know,” I finally said, “You’re right. Meat packing plants are bad on a number of levels and I’m sorry I said those things to you. I hope you do grow up and shut them down. It’s people like you who will make the world a better place for those animals and for the people who work in those plants.”

I wonder how often we give up on a dream, a goal, a plan to make the world a better place because so many “voices of reason” swirl around us, telling us to be cautious, be fair, be considerate, be realistic. How many times do we succumb to “reasonableness” before we cease to dream altogether? Why are we afraid to think differently? Why are we content to follow the crowd even when we don’t seem to like where the crowd is taking us? Why do we keep our mouths shut in fear of offending rather than speak out on the subjects that offend us?

Why do we?

Why do I?

Source

On a March afternoon at our home in Pasadena, Calif., about 35 boxes of vitamins and iron tablets blocked the front hallway. The dining room table was heaped high with packages of embroidery thread, scissors, crayons, work gloves and eye drops. Still, there was more to collect.

Our local garment district turned out to be the best place to buy thimbles in bulk. A stockbroker donated 100 small flashlights, penknives and calculators with the Morgan Stanley logo. We scoured sporting goods outlets for deflated soccer balls and bought 20 pairs of sunglasses at a 99-cent store. If the cashiers were perplexed, they hid it well.

Not surprisingly, the logistics of hauling about 350 pounds of supplies to Africa are complex and are likely to be further complicated by heightened airline security. A week after our scavenger hunt began, we finally loaded up five supersize sports duffle bags, paid about $200 in extra baggage fees (the vitamins alone weighed in at 200 pounds) and boarded a flight to Niger.

That was the start of a two-week trip to a nation that the New York Times columnist Nicholas D. Kristof recently called “the most wretched country in the world,” and a venture that grew out of a question our 16-year-old daughter, Leslie Brian, posed after hearing yet another news account of suffering in Africa.

“So, is there anything we can do about it?” she had asked.

New York Times: In Niger, Using Vacation to Help the World’s Poor

“INFPs are very aware of social injustice and empathize with the underdog. Their empathy for the underdog and hyper-awareness of social injustice makes them extremely compassionate and nurturing…”*

“A key word for this type is ‘empathy.’ INFP children will often be the ones to ask their parents why they didn’t give the homeless man spare change, or why that woman is crying.”*

We can live without technology and nice clothes and ear-splitting sex, but we can’t live without peace of mind and a basic understanding between ourselves and others…

The lotus flower symbolizes a heart or self that’s untainted by personal adversity or by the pollution of the outside world. The lotus starts its journey buried in water, muck, and mire and steadily grows towards the light—rising towards the water’s surface. Once it breaks the surface, the lotus blossoms with a beautiful flower that’s untouched by the muddy water surrounding it.

“What I learned from the great suffering of my childhood was that compassion and love and non-violence are necessities of happiness—absolutely mandatory for true happiness. We can live without technology and nice clothes and ear-splitting, sex but we can’t live without peace of mind and a basic understanding between ourselves and others.

“What I am is a humanitarian and I just happen to be coming from a religious perspective. Mother Teresa was involved in a mammoth effort to rescue human beings from the causes and effects of suffering because that was her divine inspiration from her faith practice. Likewise, the Dalai Lama is concerned with doing this same work according to a Buddhist perspective. It’s all the same perspective. It’s all about the compassion and love that’s necessary for us to avoid suffering and live harmonious lives and religions can be a great inspiration for human beings in bringing this about.

“If I said I was a devout Christian and wanted to create a religious-based human rights foundation, no one would bat an eye at me but, because I’m coming from a perspective that most people are unfamiliar with, people question it and need it to be validated. I’m not a miracle-worker, or a glamorous guru, or a reputed scholar sporting several degrees. I’m just a man who’s been touched in a very direct way with love and compassion. I hear the voice in my heart and have to respond by sharing that joy with others. I don’t do it through evangelism or proselytizing, because I don’t believe in those things. People should follow the voice as they hear it and, if that voice is Christian or Catholic or Hindu or whatever, you should follow it with all your might and use it to benefit others. That’s my way of legitimizing my work and the capacity in which I serve. I live by example, by manifesting kindness and compassion and wisdom.

“If people decide not to recognize my title or function, then so be it. I don’t care about that. What I care about is sending out a positive message to humanity, creating a spiritual revolution that will teach others the value of basic human kindness and compassion. I’m going to keep doing this work until I take my last breath because there are much greater things to me than human legitimization.”*

“If there is to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the nations. If there is to be peace in the nations, there must be peace in the cities. If there is to be peace in the cities, there must be peace between neighbors. If there is to be peace between neighbors, there must be peace in the home. If there is to be peace in the home, there must be peace in the heart.” —Lao-Tse