Expressive in a monk's cell

Dismembered and gutted, but working. How can this be? No idea. It's the way things tend to go for me. Like the Black Knight in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It's only a flesh wound. I've been shocked into a lot of silence and the past couple of days have felt like a weird, foggy blur. But my tendency to express myself remains. Missives from Hades. 

The expressive type is an interesting thing to contemplate. Jung popularized introvert and extrovert, but I think expressive types occur within both of those categories. Maybe it's better to talk about styles than types.

The expressive style then. It me. I wonder if it would benefit me to practice the opposite. Stop documenting and sharing my experience, stop posting music I love, stop expressing my opinion on things, stop telling people how I feel. Try on a radically different style.

A Monk at Prayer, Edouard Manet, 1864

I do know that one of the hardest experiences of losing this relationship for me is that I'm not able to express anything to them anymore. My usual pattern in romance especially is to share books, movies, music, memes, humor in general, opinions, etc. After a break up, for the longest time, sometimes forever, I continue to see things I want to share with the ex. But often can't, for practical reasons, out of respect for a hard boundary, or simply because the lines of communication are down.

The shadow side of the expressive style is a toxic, attention-grabbing, codependent reliance on constant external validation and always having an audience. Facebook sometimes greatly aggravates this side. Another shadow element is the crushing emptiness and loneliness that results from constantly performing, or from not having an audience. You hear a lot of artists and performers talk about this. The abyss after a show. All that applause and recognition evaporates and you're alone. This stark contrast might contribute to the tendency of performers to be addicts and alcoholics. Have to take the edge off that moment of complete solitude.

But the upside is enjoyable, for me. I like being a messenger, a conduit of cool cultural things, an enthusiast and promoter, a writer and communicator. A documentarian. Shared appreciation definitely enhances my own appreciation for things. If I see an incredible scene, for example, my impulse is to photograph it and share it. Look at this! And thereby I feel like the experience gets rooted somehow in something larger than myself.

It would be very challenging for me to go on a trip and not tell anyone, not post any photos and not share the experience with anyone at all. I think a lot of people probably do some version of this all the time. Maybe I'll experiment with it. 

But then I'm quite certain, afterward, I would want to tell everyone all about what it was like to not share it.