So, upon cleaning out some (more) files, I came across some materials from my psychology courses in college. Kiersey's personality or temperament types was among them. At that time I scored as an INFP, I'm going to take it again, because one can certainly change over the course of six years. Update to come.
I took it. I was "the artist" this time...but then I took it from a different site and am awaiting the results. So it's not an infallible science, but it's not altogether inaccurate.
Results in. INFP. I guess I didn't change that much. I wonder about the source that told me I was an artist. The difference was only one letter though: ISFP. So the difference is whether I trust intuition or concrete sensory experience? Well, it depends...hence the disparity, but evidently I'm for sure introverted (do ya think) I definitely rely on feeling over thinking...hello impulsive emotional reactions, and I'm more inclined to perceive than to judge. These things fit very well.
It's the sensing versus intuition (the S or the N) that apparently waivers. That makes sense to me. Sometimes I trust my intuition, other times I don't and I have to rely on concrete sensory observation. This is the same sticking point I had in philosophy when I had to decide between rationalism and empiricism. I wasn't able. I'm still not able. So perhaps my personality is split. Perhaps I'm a little more complicated than Kiersey or Myers & Briggs wanted. Maybe there isn't a clear black or white here, maybe I'm just a lovely shade of gray. At least in one area.
What are you?
Ms. Cardona. WHS. AP Language. Poetry. Philosophy.
2.15.2010
2.14.2010
A Little Wisdom from Rilke
Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
***
What is required of us is that we love the difficult and learn to deal with it. In the difficult are the friendly forces, the hands that work on us. Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.
***
People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must hold to what is difficult; everything alive holds to it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself in its own way and is characteristically and spontaneously itself, seeks at all costs to be so and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that will not forsake us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it. To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.
***
No experience has been too unimportant, and the smallest event unfolds like a fate, and fate itself is like a wonderful, wide fabric in which every thread is guided by an infinitely tender hand and laid alongside another thread and is held and supported by a hundred others.
***
It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens.
***
I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.
***
What is required of us is that we love the difficult and learn to deal with it. In the difficult are the friendly forces, the hands that work on us. Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.
***
People have (with the help of conventions) oriented all their solutions toward the easy and toward the easiest side of the easy; but it is clear that we must hold to what is difficult; everything alive holds to it, everything in Nature grows and defends itself in its own way and is characteristically and spontaneously itself, seeks at all costs to be so and against all opposition. We know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that will not forsake us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it. To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.
***
No experience has been too unimportant, and the smallest event unfolds like a fate, and fate itself is like a wonderful, wide fabric in which every thread is guided by an infinitely tender hand and laid alongside another thread and is held and supported by a hundred others.
***
It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens.
***
I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.
I Should Be Sleeping
It's late. It's Saturday night and instead of sleeping, I'm watching King Kong on TV. It shouldn't be so convincing, the bond between a giant gorilla and a beautiful woman. But it is. He just wants to save her. He wants her for himself, sure, but he risks life and limb against dinosaurs, chloroform, men with their guns, what appear to be super-sized bats, and more just to ensure her safety. You know the animation is top notch when the pouting and shoulder slump of a make-believe three ton gorilla can make my eyes glisten with tears. That kind of sacrificial love just doesn't happen anymore! Sure he bit one guy's head off, but he was just trying to get to Anne. Sure, he destroyed half of 1920s New York, but he was just trying to have a romantic moment with his unlikely lady friend. No need for the guns and the planes. Poor King Kong. It's time for bed.
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