Conflict is a subject in which quite a lot can be written about. Indeed, a lot of what has been written across the history of the world’s literature has been about conflict of one kind or another. Conflict between nations, conflicts w⍺ithin families, conflicts between the animate and the inanimate (a frantic mother searching for her car keys each morning), conflicts between angels and demons. But, for me, the conflict that is both most interesting and most troubling is – the internal conflict.
It’s cliche – “What do I want to do when I grow up?” – “Who am I *really*?” – “Why does it feel that there are these warring factions within me that continually fight their battles at the expense of my own sanity?” But these things are cliche, because they are so common – and so universal, and yet, so damned personal!
It’s easy to have answers for other people. Quick fixes, hints, tips, suggestions – I do it all of the time with my friends and family. But are they ever really enough? What kind of support system is necessary to ease the pains of this never-ending, private, internal conflict? And most importantly – what *is* this conflict?
For me, the biggest internal conflict is that between the desire for extroversion and introversion. The introverting part of me wants to hole up away from the restof the world, quietly writing music, or poetry, or books on all sorts of subjects. This part of me wants safety and security and a kind of certainty that doesn’t need thinking about – a home that is my castle, where I can leave an object someplace, and it’ll still be there three days later. To live in a somewhat introverted, artistic community where the neighbors are friendly and mild and know who you are – and still smile at your each day anyhow!
Perhaps this is the quiet side of me, that likes to be left alone for the most part, but enjoys just enough human contact to get by.
The exxtroverting part of me, however, wants to just “let loose” – to follow whatever internal drives are pushing and pulling at the moment – to run around, bouncing off of walls, or jumping on furniture, or even sounding as silly as sitting on a warm beach, just mindlessly playing in the sand! This is the side of me that wants to sing at top voice, walking down the street; that wants to hug everybody; that always wants to have something to say to other people and be the life of the party, making everybody laugh or cry as I become the storyteller.
This internal conflict has many players. Many inner wishes and reams and desires come into play here. Many outside forces make their presence known and seem to cut off the songbird’s voice, just as the songbird is about to sing.