Remember when I said I was an enneagram 1? You probably don’t, so here it is. If you don’t want to look back at it, I’ll sum it up by telling you that I was frustrated by a situation at re:generation, and I was convinced that my “oneness” made it a particularly cruel hurdle.
Well … turns out I’m not a 1. In fact, I’m so not a 1 that when I start acting like a 1, it’s a red flag, warning me that I’m not healthy.
Danger! Funk Ahead!
So what’s my real number?
My real number kinda blew my mind. The enneagram seven is nicknamed the enthusiast. The one is the reformer, and it’s where I go when I’m unhappy. So basically, this means that when I’m not healthy, I go from loving everything to trying to fix everything.
I go from sprinkling glitter everywhere to vacuuming that messy crap up. I go from Phoebe to Monica. And speaking of Monica …
She pretty much sums up how I feel about my new number. I don’t want to make everything perfect. I want to make everything beautiful. But when I’m low — and I’ve been really low for a long time — I Monica my Phoebe. Hence, the confusion.
I tested as a 1 because I was just that unhappy.
Don’t get me wrong. Healthy ones are amazing. One of my best friends is a one, and I adore her. But a seven acting like a one is a miserable creature.
The New Me
I’m getting in touch with my enthusiasm. There are days when the words are flowing, and I dance through the house in celebration of a well-written episode. But holding on to that is difficult. Sometimes I still try to put my 7 characteristics in a cage. The chaos of my creative heart terrifies me.
I worry that I’m too much and too little at the same time. Can I really write fantasy novels and enjoy myself for a living? Isn’t that too self-indulgent? Shouldn’t I be the queen of clean?
Do I dare to allow myself to get used to feeling joyful?
I’m currently on step 7 in re:generation. I didn’t plan to wait and share my real number on this step. But it works out great, because step 7 is to follow. It’s time to put the things I’m learning into action. No more going in my cave, no more seeking out the comfort of loneliness. I need to move forward, to be brave, and do new things.
And it’s really hard to move forward when you don’t know who you are. I’ve been trying for so long to be what I thought I had to be, that I don’t know how to let myself breathe. I feel guilty for my good days. That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic, does it?
There’s joy in the juggle, if I will allow myself to be the scattered, creative person God made me to be.