Tag: MBTI

Why I Write

Last week, I had an interaction with someone on Facebook that made me stop and seriously question why I write. The original post, a personal introduction in a group for people with the same Myers-Briggs Personality Type (MBTI), was made under my Facebook profile designated for this blog, The Curated Man. I have a personal Facebook profile as well, but that is used for my friends and family. I use my personal profile to post about personal things. You know, stuff about my kid, my wife, baseball, barbecue (real bbq…smoking and such). Things I won’t post about in a group with over 100,000 members.

While my introduction was widely met with warm welcomes, one person commented with a single word, “Advertisement.” Immediately realizing that they perceived my posting with my Curated Man profile as promoting my writing efforts, I tried to offer them an explanation in hopes that it would relieve the skepticism they might hold about my intentions. I receive no compensation for my little blog. They weren’t willing to concede ground on their assessment of me. I don’t judge them for being wary. However, the interaction did spur me into thinking more intently about the reasons I write.

The primary reason I write is completely selfish. It is a cathartic experience for me. It’s cheaper than therapy. In its simplest form, it is a journal. It allows me to take the random thoughts racing through my head, organize them in a coherent fashion, and create something tangible. It is my feeble attempt at artistic expression. If nobody reads what I write, that’s ok. I’ve still created something that is a reflection of me and the world we live in.

The second big reason that I choose to write is more altruistic. We live in a connected society, as much as some people wish they didn’t. Many are on a journey of trying to understand the world and themselves within that world. My family is well-versed in my experiences and philosophy, only able to withstand small doses of my ramblings. The reality is that most people are not interested in what I have to say. I’m fine with that. But maybe, out there somewhere, is someone on a journey similar to my own. With over 8 billion people on this planet, maybe there are some out there that could benefit by reading a few of my words. Statistically, there have to be at least 20 people out there that meet that criteria. So, for those who might stumble upon my little WordPress blog, I put my thoughts out into the world in hopes that it might in some way help them.

There is another reason I write. It’s another reason why I don’t just keep a private journal. As I make my 52nd trip around the Sun, there are countless times when I wish I could ask my parents for their advice. I wonder what they would have thought about a specific situation. I lost my dad when I was 21. I lost my Mom when I was 30. The older I become, the more I wish I had opportunities to know what they thought about life. Things I didn’t have the wisdom to ask when I was younger. One day, my daughter will likely find herself in the same position. How nice would it be if I could go back and read about what my parents thought about life? So, in that spirit, I will continue to string words together and commit my thoughts to a state of digital immortality. One day, after I’m gone, my daughter will at least have an opportunity to read about my thoughts.

I enjoy writing. There were times when I thought I could make a little extra money with my writing. I soon realized that in the blogging world, making money requires creating a lot of material. It requires consistently pumping out copious amounts of content, all in an effort to stay on the forethought of peoples’ minds. I soon found myself dreading the whole experience. What I created wouldn’t resonate with me. There was no joy. As a result, I decided not to use my blog in that manner. Perhaps one day, I’ll decide to write a book. Maybe, I won’t. As long as I still feel a spark of inspiration which occasionally results in a few paragraphs worthy of sharing, I’ll be just fine.

So, if you see me on social media as The Curated Man, know I’m not there for any purpose other than to interact with people. It means I chose to keep a little piece of myself reserved for those with whom I’ve developed some kind of relationship in the past. It’s merely a partition between my personal self and my less personal self.

My Soundtrack Part VII: All I Really Want 2013 to Present…And Beyond

As this series approaches its conclusion, it should be clear to all how important music is in my life. Famed artist Jean-Michel Basquiat brilliantly stated, “Art is how decorate space, music is how we decorate time.” It’s a universal medium that reflects who we are as a person. It tells our story, even if it is often abstract. It is accessible to nearly every person, regardless of circumstance. Just as the books we read and the people we associate with tell a story of who we are, music can open the same door into a person’s soul.

So, cover me up, and know you’re enough to use me for good…

By 2013, I was 40 years old. Looking back, I can recognize that beyond this point, I didn’t incorporate any new hard rock or metal artists into my soundtrack. It’s not to say that I didn’t occasionally feel the urge to listen to the genre. I just simply didn’t identify with the new music that was being made. There was no connection. It wasn’t illustrative of who I was at that point in my life. Instead, I turned to more subdued sounds. Artists like Jason Isbell and Brandi Carlile began finding their way into my listening rotation. In my opinion, Isbell’s Cover Me Up and Carlile’s The Story are two of the best songs released in the past 20 years. Both are lessons in the songwriting craft and filled to the brim with emotion. Both were reflective of who I had become by this point in my life.

Another musical highlight during this period didn’t involve any specific artists. As my daughter became a little older, she started to develop her own musical identity. Even at an early age, it was clear that she possessed a knack for artistic expression through music. As a toddler, she would often break into impromptu performances for people, including strangers. Any elevated platform became a stage. It would turn that shy, timid little girl into an entirely different person. As such, we did what any thoughtful parents would do. We made her promise she would never play drums and sent her off to music lessons. Piano lessons turned into voice lessons. To this day, music remains one of the few topics that she and I can talk about, with enthusiasm and clarity.

As our daughter became a pre-teen, a familiar musical outlet would return, with a twist. We began to introduce the child to live music. Excluding a Kids Bop concert in 2013, the first real show we took her to was Taylor Swift. We tried to reach a happy medium when choosing shows. We would drag her to see Matchbox Twenty and Counting Crows. At the child’s urging, we would see Fall Out Boy. I finally got a chance to see Alanis Morissette live. Just as I enjoyed watching my wife dance around at a concert, I experienced the same joy watching my teenage daughter do the same.

Now solidly a trio, we introduced our daughter to musical theater. Prior to meeting my wife, I had only been to one Broadway touring production. As a couple, we were fortunate enough to catch Phantom of the Opera on Brodaway, during our first trip to New York City together. It started with touring productions of some of the Disney musicals. In 2015, we took her to see Aladin on Broadway. By 2021, we had season tickets to national touring productions, here in Phoenix. The child loved it. She loved it so much that she decided she wanted to perform on stage herself. At 14, she began performing publicly. When it was time for high school, we would send her to a performing arts school, that offered a college-level theater program. Today, at 16, I’m firmly convinced she could front a successful band. I couldn’t write this series without including her as one of my favorite vocalists to listen to.

Having a musically inclined teenager in the house has had other influences on the music I choose to listen to. Through my daughter, I’ve discovered other contemporary artists that I would most likely never have given much thought to. Hozier and Noah Kahan are perfect examples of this influence. As I write, perhaps the band I’m most excited about is boygenius. If you haven’t caught their first full studio album, The Record, you’re missing out. Their performance Satanist on this past weekend’s airing of Saturday Night Live was one of the best I’ve seen in several years. Then again, I’m a sucker for great harmonies and artists that write their own material.

Now that my musical preferences have been laid bare, for all to see, I find myself asking questions about why my personal soundtrack is the way it is. What attracts me to a specific song, genre, or artist? Are there patterns? What comes next? Why do I enjoy the Eagles more than Don Henley as a solo artist? Does my personality influence the music I like?

As I ponder these questions, there are some clues as to the answers. Obviously, environmental exposure has an influence. I doubt I would have developed a love for the Eagles without ample exposure to their music by my older brother. It’s unlikely that I would have attached to Hair Metal the way I did if my friends at the time weren’t entrenched in the music. However, environmental exposure alone cannot explain other patterns that have emerged.

Another pattern that has become apparent to me, is that I prefer artists that write and record their own music. While I can appreciate an artist’s vocal and musical talent, there is an authenticity present when they write their own material. It’s my bias, and I own that. It also takes nothing away from artists who record other people’s songs. It’s just my preference.

I’ve also noticed that I gravitate towards bands over solo artists. As illustrations, I prefer to listen to the Eagles or Matchbox Twenty over solo works by Don Henley or Rob Thomas. It’s not that I don’t like the solo artists. Boys of Summer by Don Henley is one of my favorite songs from the mid-80s, but even that was co-written by Mike Campbell from Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. There is something about the collaborative songwriting process that can create absolute magic. Without the influences of Kyle Cook and Paul Doucette, It’s unlikely I would have otherwise been drawn to the songwriting of Rob Thomas and Matchbox Twenty. If a band can put forward multiple vocalists, like The Beatles, the Eagles, and boygenius, that’s even more impressive. As much as this element influences the music I have enjoyed throughout life, it doesn’t hold up as an answer all on its own.

And all I need now is intellectual intercourse, a soul to dig the hole much deeper…

This brings me to another factor…does my personality impact the music I like. My Myers-Brigg Type Indicator (MBTI) is INFJ. I’m a sensitive introvert and as such, I spend copious amounts of time within my own head. I suspect that music that would be considered introspective in nature, possess a natural allure to me. I can get lost in my own mind while examining the lyrics of a song. I’m a sucker for the skilled crafting of language. Songs that employ symbolism and metaphors are most likely going to interest me. The allegorical nature of many musical theater songs fascinates me. It’s not that I can’t enjoy a feel-good song of a less cerebral nature, as evidenced by my love of 80s Hair Metal, but it also explains why it’s not a genre of music I listen to frequently any longer. My personality preference wants a deeper connection, much like how I view personal relationships. For this reason, I usually find myself gravitating to the introspective songs of Gen-X.

A great example of how my personality influences my musical taste would be in examining the songwriting of Alanis Morissette. As I have come to understand myself better, and my MBTI, I have come to terms with the fact that I’m not a great example of what appeals to the masses. INFJ is considered the rarest of the MBTIs, with somewhere between 1 to 3 percent of the world’s population falling into this category. Break it down further, and being an INFJ male is even more uncommon (Most INFJs are women). I can be an enigma when people try to get to know me. In fact, the number of people on this earth that I consider close enough to actually understand who I am, can be counted on one hand. When I look at my soundtrack, there is only one artist out there that I listen to, whose lyrics come close to explaining how I think; fellow INFJ Alanis Morissette.

Two songs off Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill are the closest I’ve found that describe who I am. Every word in her song, All I Really Want, captures my desires in life. I have to wonder if Alanis knew she was an INFJ when she wrote that song with Glen Ballard. Being in her 20s when she wrote the song, it’s unlikely she knew. However, when I listen to those words, nothing has captured who I am, nearly as perfect as she did. Her song One Hand In My Pocket also hits close to home. I can be a walking contradiction. I’m equally comfortable watching football as I am watching a Broadway musical. I love humanity, but I can develop a severe distaste for people. I can be as steady as a rock in a crisis, but become overwhelmed with the unplanned trivial things in life. I cannot imagine failing to find a connection in the songs she writes. I’m thankful that there is someone out there like me, who is infinitely more creative than I am, that can speak my truth for the world to try and understand.

Where will my soundtrack go from here? I do not know for certain, but I imagine that the factors I’ve listed above will play a role. I know that I’ll always enjoy listening to my daughter sing. I can’t imagine not enjoying live music with my wife. I am excited to realize that even with 50 years under my belt, there are established artists that I’ve yet to appreciate. I’m also confident that whatever new music I come to enjoy will share similar introspective qualities as I love in Counting Crows and Jason Isbell. I’m not sure I’ll ever connect with another Alanis though. Perhaps, in another 10 years or so, I’ll share another chapter of my musical journey. Until then, my desire is that you take a few moments and think about the soundtrack of your own life. Ask yourself why you like the music you do. Does it connect you to a special time in your life? Does it remind you of a specific person? Does it give people a glimpse into your own mind? How well do you know yourself? Can music help you with your own self-discovery? There are no right answers, just as there is no right or wrong music. What is important is that we decorate time with our music. Appreciation for the arts is intrinsically human. I encourage each of you to embrace it, reflect upon it, and if gifted enough, create some yourself.

My Soundtrack Part IV: Recovering The Satellites

If the previous four years had been a musical desert, 1995 and 1996 would be a rainforest of new music. In no other period had I broadened the number of contemporary musical artists I would learn to love. It is undoubtedly the broadest expansion of new music in my life. I finally started to pay attention to the Gin Blossoms, as their sophomore record received the attention it deserved. Likewise, Collective Soul would release their sophomore album, packed full of hooky guitar riffs and an occasional kick in the ass not seen in their debut album. I appreciated the fact they had three guitar players, and the way they layered them in their songwriting still amazes me. Their hit December is great example of the guitar complexity.

I even softened towards some grunge bands. I could definitely appreciate the musical craftsmanship of Pearl Jam. Alice in Chains and Stone Temple Pilots put out some legitimately good rock songs. On the fringes of grunge were Lisa Loeb, Veruca Salt, and the Cranberries; powerful female voices who could command one’s imagination. But a new female superstar was about to be introduced to American audiences, from our frozen neighbors to the North. She was in a class all by herself.

And what I wouldn’t give to find a soul mate? Someone else to catch this drift. And what I wouldn’t give to meet a kindred?…

One hot day in the Summer of 1995, I was watching MTV in the cool confines of my climate-controlled home. Just as those in cold climates don’t leave their houses in the Winter, in Phoenix, we do not leave our houses from June through August. Unless, of course, you have a swimming pool. I didn’t have a pool, so I often would pull the shades on the windows to keep out as much of the blistering Sun as possible, and watch MTV in my well decorated cave. The first time I heard Alanis Morissette belt out the chorus to You Oughta Know, my jaw dropped. Her mezzo-soprano voice was at times whistful, while having the ability to knock you over with her powerful belt. Throw in excellent songwriting, and the ingredients for an iconic rock album were all there. Jagged Little Pill would help define 90s music.

A punk rock band out of Buffalo, New York would tweak their sound ever so slightly and produce the silliest named album of the year. A Boy Named Goo would earn the Goo Goo Dolls national acclaim, with their hit Name. But the album also featured legitimate rockers like Long Way Down, Naked, and Flat Top. They would go out on tour with Bush to support the album. The two bands offered a fresh new face to modern rock.

It would be easy to sum up 1995 with just the bands in the paragraphs above. That would be a serious disservice to bands like Better Than Ezra, Seven Mary Three, Everclear, and Spacehog as they debuted to a national audience. Gen-X was coming into adulthood and started staking out their spot in a world run by Baby Boomers. With that, came perhaps the most common underlying theme of the music we listened to: Angst. It provided the backbone for some pretty impressive songwriters, to remind the world that there was a price to be paid for the decadence of the 80s.

We could all wear ripped up clothes, and pretend that we’re Dead Hot Workshop…

1996 was not ready to let up on the gas. The national airwaves were finally exposed to a quirky, beloved band that those who followed the Tempe music scene knew well. The Refreshments released their major label debut, Fizzy Fuzzy Big & Buzzy in 1996. The Refreshments were the second Tempe band to receive significant national exposure, after the Gin Blossoms. To describe their sound is difficult; you really need to listen to it for yourself. Imagine a cerebral poet crafting some skater punk rock, filtering it through the dusty sand of the Sonoran Desert, and infusing it with a legit pop melody vibe. Throw in a kazoo and you have the essence of their unique sound. Their debut album remains one of my favorites, earning Desert Island consideration. Both The Refreshments and the Gin Blossoms enjoyed the wave of a fresh new sound, but they were just two of a some great bands that exemplified the Tempe music scene; specifically Dead Hot Workshop and The Pistoleros.

Other great bands also made their way to the mainstream 90s rock scene in 1996 and 1997. Tonic, The Wallflowers, Everclear, and Dishwalla were new and making a name for themselves with strong debut albums. Counting Crows released their second album, Recovering the Satellites, a solid follow-up to August and Everything After. They were one of many bands who had produced follow-ups to their successful first albums. The era of what would be categorized 90s Alt-Rock was at its peak, with more great music to come. One new band out of Florida would define 1997 for me.

She grabs her magazines, she packs her things and she goes…

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I have a tendency to deep dive into things that I have a profound interest in. It is a characteristic of my INFJ personality type.. After seeing the video for their first single Long Day playing in a Blockbuster Video store, I didn’t hold out much hope for Matchbox 20. While the song was catchy with a bit of an edge, the music video didn’t quite capture my attention. Apparently, it didn’t capture the attention of many people. Their debut album, Yourself or Someone Like You, wasn’t selling and they were playing to nearly empty clubs. It was over six months after the album’s release before their second single, Push, would start to get some significant radio air play. I first heard the song on the radio while driving from Phoenix to Tucson. I immediately loved it, rare for me the first time that I hear a song. The next day, I bought the CD. I lived in those songs for the next two years. So did over 10 million other Americans, as the album achieved the exclusive Diamond status. I dove deep, analyzing the lyrics of each song, over and over again. When I had the opportunity to meet their lead singer and principle songwriter Rob Thomas in 2011, my first words to him were, “I hope I don’t faint.” While my tongue was firmly planted in my cheek, we had a good laugh and he pulled me in for big hug.

Matchbox 20 didn’t have a monopoly on Gen-X angst, but I personally connected with their songwriting more than any artist before. These guys were my age. They were singing about the challenges and disillusionment many in our generation were experiencing. We were all out in the real world now, trying to figure life out. We were starting relationships and doing what we thought people do in relationships, only to find out we were so wrong about so much. Everything we were thinking and feeling was tied up into a 46 minute and 43 second package of Gen-X melodies, warts and all.

As the 90s came to an end, so would the sound that dominated the Alt Rock scene. Collective Soul gave us their third studio album, which was just as infectious as their breakout second record. Dishwalla, Better than Ezra, and Seven Mary Three recorded some great second albums. A few other new bands also found their way into my CD collection. Eve 6, The Flys, and Harvey Danger were all noteworthy additions. But the musical landscape was about to change again, as the 90s came to an end. Many of the bands here would continue making music into the next century. Counting Crows and Matchbox 20 would see continued commercial success. One of the keys to their continued success was that their songwriting continued to mature along with their audience. In the years to come, records full of angst would give way to stories of acceptance and enlightenment. Both bands continue to show a reflection of a generation, albeit with a tad more gray hair visible.

As I dash my ship upon your shore, a mad-drunk and reckless troubadour…

The upcoming years would see my musical tastes broaden and mellow. I would experience my last dalliance with new, hard rock music. As the bands that dominated the Tempe music scene broke up, a new Arizona super group would rise from their ashes to establish a near cult like following. I would never again saturate my musical mind with new artists like I had in the 90s. A new century awaited, with new priorities.

Next up: My Soundtrack Part V – Green and Dumb

Roll Down The Window and Turn the Radio Up

I’ve always had a deep desire to be understood. I’m sure it stems from going through the majority of my life believing that few people actually did understand me. You pick the group, I was always a bit different than everyone else. At least, that was my perception. Take a person who feels misunderstood, and they will likely search for ways to make themselves understood. For some, that’s pretty easy. For me, it’s torture. Where an extrovert will go out and boldly find common ground amongst the populous, my introverted, sensitive, intuitive self always sought out subtlety. That pattern still exists today.

As I reflect upon how this desire to be understood manifested itself, one method stands out above all others: music. I would never walk up to someone on a whim and start conversing with them about music. But, put me in my car and I would roll down my windows, turn my stereo up as loud as I could tolerate, and announce to the world what my musical interests were. Silly, I know. But the passive, subtle effort was the best way I knew to communicate to people that I enjoy music and this is the music I enjoy.

As I matured, I realized that was not the most effective or respectful method of communicating my musical tastes. Yet, music remains a window into my world. It’s a unifier and it evokes emotion. As an INFJ personality type, it allows me to flex my extroverted sensing muscle in a healthy way. Similar to nature, I am likely to immerse myself in the auditory cornucopia of sounds, lyrics, and chord progressions.

So I’m going to roll down my window, turn the stereo up, and share with you my curated soundtrack. Not only will I share the music that has resonated with me over the years, but also explore some of the reasons why I hold on to some artists and songs even today. I’ll move in chronological order, though you’ll notice that my musical tastes do not necessarily follow a linear path. Later this week, I’ll share with you the first music that captured my attention and why. I hope you come along for the ride!

First up: The warm smell of colitas!

Parenting The Personality: How to not lose your cool when your children are not like you.

I strongly believe that you find what you’re looking for in life. Some refer to this as the Tetris Effect. Simply put, we seek out things that are at the forefront of our conscious thoughts. When I purchased my first, new car, I distinctly remember thinking that I hadn’t spotted many of that make and model on the roads. However, that perception changed as soon as I drove the car off the lot. Suddenly, I started noticing every car of that make and model. It seemed as though they were everywhere. I had been actively searching for them.

Recently, I’ve been thinking and writing about our individual personalities. Sure enough, the more I think about how personalities influence our relationships in every aspect of life, the more I recognize the force personalities exert on our interactions with each other. This is especially true with those I’m closest to; those I know the best. Case in point, parenting my 16-year-old daughter.

As I’ve written about before, my MBTI (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator) is INFJ. I’m an introverted (I), big-picture thinker (N) who views the world through feeling the human experience (F). When I make a decision, it’s after a lot of introspection and thinking about the impact those decisions have on those around me. When I do make a decision, I want closure (J). When I make plans, I don’t want them to change. And if they do change, I want three backup plans waiting in the wings.

My wife is an ISTJ. She’s introverted, just like I am. She lives in the minute details of life (S) and uses past experiences to best predict what will happen next (T). She has a determination to finish a job like nobody I’ve ever met before (J). She craves that closure. Now, let’s look at our daughter.

The child is an ENFP. She’s an extrovert and relies on interacting with the outside world to understand it (E). Like me, she’s a big-picture thinker (N) who views the world through feeling the human experience (F). However, where our child differs from us the most is in that last classification. The child prefers to fly by the seat of her pants (P). She’s brilliant; however, as her parents, we are constantly terrified because we are always questioning whether she’s planning for life appropriately. We perceive her preference to leave her options open until the last minute as being completely chaotic.

How does this manifest itself in real-world application as her parents? Let’s first look at how she approaches time management. At times, our daughter wants to do it all. She’s currently involved in two separate theater productions, taking three Advanced Placement classes at school, and attempts to lead a vibrant social life outside of those commitments. If her mother or I attempted to take on that much, we would approach things in different ways to manage the stress associated with that level of commitment. Though her mother and I would approach the management of that stress in a very structured way, seeking closure of individual tasks (J), the child is most comfortable making decisions at the last possible point in her thinking process. What would drive us crazy, allows her to feel most at ease. Here are two examples:

  • A musical artist recently announced a world tour. The child, and most of her friends, dutifully signed up for the pre-sale lottery. That was the extent of her planning. When she discovered this week that she had been chosen for the pre-sale lottery, she excitedly shared the news with us (E). Tickets would go on sale at 3 PM the next day. Of course, this led to a myriad of questions from us. How much are tickets? How are you going to pay for this? You want to go with friends, are they ready to fork over money tomorrow at 3 PM? You have rehearsal at 3PM tomorrow, how are you going to buy the tickets? All questions you would expect from parents who plan. Spoiler Alert: She hadn’t thought those things through.
  • My wife and I require an organized environment to feel most at ease (J). While never immaculate, our home is almost always tidy and put together. My wife specializes in organizing the minute details of our finances and planning our family activities. I ensure the kitchen stays clean after every meal and we always have clean clothes to wear. We both are methodical in completing these activities and do not tend to rest if there are loose ends. Enter our daughter, stage left. Our methodical approach to closure is completely foreign to the child’s spontaneous self. She loves to create. On a whim, she’ll head into the kitchen and without much guidance, start baking a cake. Once completed with the baking, it’s on to her next creative endeavor. The path of destruction left in the kitchen simply does not stress her out. She’ll get to it. Maybe. Eventually. If she doesn’t, it’s not causing her much stress from the lack of order and closure. Who is this alien?

None of this means that we don’t guide our daughter through things that are challenging. We are 100% invested in her creative pursuits. However, we recognize that a person cannot successfully navigate life while only focusing on their primary strengths and traits. Planning for contingencies can be very useful. Reaching closure on items is oftentimes necessary in life. Just ask your boss about that one. What understanding our daughter’s personality preferences helps us with is in reducing the frustration when the willful imp starts to blaze her own trail and do things herself. Her loose affiliation with sound time management techniques doesn’t mean that she’s doing things wrong. It just means that she does it differently than we do.

It’s no surprise that I encourage all parents to know their own MBTI, as well as those of their parenting partner and their children. I also encourage that we help our children understand their own MBTI. While personality isn’t the sole influencer of human behavior, it is a cornerstone to understanding the dynamic nature of human relationships. What is your own personality type? What about your significant other and children? How have personality types impacted your own familial relationships?