Shy

Shyness

By: Pablo Neruda

I scarcely knew, by myself, that I existed,

that I'd be able to be, and go on being.

I was afraid of that, of life itself.

I didn't want to be seen,

I didn't want my existence to be known.

I became pallid, thin, absentminded.

I didn't want to speak so that nobody

would recognize my voice, I didn't want

to see so that nobody would see me.

Walking, I pressed myself against the wall

like a shadow slipping away...

            

           This poem by Pablo Neruda describes shyness very well.  The experience described in the poem is something that has happened to me all of my life.  Being shy is so limiting and so hard to break away from.  Through the years I've tried to be less shy, and I've succeeded a bit, but that shyness is still always there, a rain cloud hovering over my head, whenever I'm around other people.  The odd thing about myself, as both a shy person and an introvert, is that I both love and dislike people at the same time.  I like them but mainly from a distance.  I don't mind being alone but yet I don't like to be alone for too long.  I'm a contradictory, confusing mess. 

              I think that the main reason for my shyness--and most likely other shy people as well-- stems from this: feeling unconfident and uninteresting.  This is why I dread being in groups of people; I'm afraid that I'll say or do something wrong and that I--and what I have to say--is uninteresting.  So, once this whole mindset is started, it becomes a habit that is almost impossible to break: a habit of just remaining silent in conversation and escaping the spotlight as much as possible.  When the spotlight is put upon me, my mind and body go into a panic: insecurities and fears race through my brain, my face burns red, my palms break out in a cold sweat, my voice shakes, and I feel like I'm either going to cry or cease to breathe.  My whole being is silently crying out to escape the situation, to get somewhere where I can be alone.  A quiet place where I can feel calm and confident and keep company with the thoughts, daydreams, and reflections in my mind.

              Solitude and silence: that's another interesting, related matter.  I think the reason that I'm so in-tune with my thoughts and emotions is because I spend a lot of time alone.  I find solitude to be soothing: to escape the constant hustle and bustle of everyday life, with the constant people and the overwhelming developments of city life in general.  Yesterday (a Friday afternoon) I ran a few errands around town and by the end of my errand-running, I was feeling suffocated and anxious.  I needed to escape the containment of crowds of people and buildings, so I took a hike at Schmeeckle Reserve.  Magically my suffocation and anxiety disappeared.  I was where I belonged: in nature, alone with my thoughts and the beauty of the expansive world around me. 

             What I love most about Nature is that she doesn't judge.  I can sing and dance and be myself, and Nature will just soothingly whisper through the trees, urging me to continue on.  That afternoon I had a realization that being surrounded by tall, towering buildings is intimidating, but, ironically, being surrounded by tall, towering pine trees is empowering.  The city sucks away my confidence and free spirit, constantly pointing out my insufficiency.  But Nature empowers me and makes me free.  She accepts and nurtures individuality; every piece of her is unique and ever-changing.  Nature doesn't pressure me to do/say a certain thing or be a certain way.  She remains silent and lets me express myself however I choose.  We could learn a lot from Nature: to slow down and take a moment to appreciate how awe-inspiring the natural world around us is, and to be silent...to listen to the voice inside you and realize that this voice is truly something beautiful and marvelous, just like you.