I have seen again and again how extroverts move through society easier than I do, but the price is high. What is proper in society only enjoys such status merely by being upheld by the sheer inertia of being accepted as a standard within a group. No matter how silly, how stupid, how random, a new social development might be, the most extroverted of the population are all but chained to it for good or for ill. They are slaves to fashion, struggling to change like chameleons according to every breeze that ripples the texture of the collective. In rapid paced modern societies, their very identities are inseperable from the chaos; it’s enough to reduce them all to nervous wrecks. In my experience, extroverts are more successful in attaining status and finding mates, but they are constantly stressed out and in turmoil. Ironically, they have no means by which to appreciate their greater success because they figure their happiness relative to whatever group they happen to be a part of.
True extroverts cannot be masters of their own happiness, because they are happy only according to, and by permission of their group. Whether they are happy or wretched is a roll of the dice whether they are high or low in status.
To really be at peace with oneself requires having a well-defined discrete identity and the ability to identify one’s personal needs and satisfy them. Some degree of introversion is required to accomplish this. Whether the introvert accomplishes more or less is a moot point: it requires some degree of introversion for inner peace and for any concept of good or accomplishment to be independent from the monolithic, impersonal forces that govern mass societies.
I have found even survival in this world difficult, yet I have found again and again whenever it comes to a moment of decision that I would not trade my life for that of the socialite under any circumstances.
I find both the greatest joys and the greatest meaning of my life in the peaceful and independent hours. What it costs me in terms of social capital is of peripheral concern, so long as I can figure a means to food and shelter. I require far less for happiness than does the extravert, and it is a more serene, more reliable happiness than can be found in the endless excitations and fluctuations of a highly social life.
