The Senior Weekend (Eneagram)

Better to see your cheek grown hollow,
Better to see your temple worn,
Than to forget to follow, follow,
After the sound of a silver horn.

Better to bind your brow with willow
And follow, follow until you die,
Than to sleep with your head on a golden pillow,
Nor lift it up when the hunt goes by.

Better to see your cheek grow sallow
And your hair grown gray, so soon, so soon,
Than to forget to hallo, hallo,
After the milk-white hounds of the moon.

- Elinor Wylie “Madman’s Song”

"I might not win the argument, but they'll know that I was there!"

The Catherine McAuley Award has two groups. Actually known as the “Award Program” and the “Leadership Enrichment Program”, the participants in the older group refer to them as the Seniors and the Babies. I’m one of the babies. But I was lucky enough (or just confused enough) to be invited to participate in the “seniors” first weekend seminar. I wasn’t sure really why I was going, other than I had told Sister Anne that I really didn’t know who in the world I was anymore and that I was having a hard time finding my true self. I seem to be a bit of a chameleon, morphing to fit whatever everyone believes me to be. I was starting to think that psychoanalysis might be the way to go…and feeling really messed up and abnormal. Sister Anne said that she asked me (and one other girl from my group) to the seminar because we had both undergone cultural shifts in our lives, and as a result were a bit more confused than your average award participant. When I moved to Australia, I altered a fair bit of my personality to fit in culturally. Ten years later, I’m not trying so desperately to fit in (or at least to not stick out), but I can’t really remember who I am. It’s a bit like an actor that has played the same role for so long that they no longer have any other roles to play.

So this weekend we worked through the Eneagram personality types. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go…after all, I didn’t do so well with the Myers-Briggs test. I simply followed what everyone else thought I was….and wasn’t convinced at the end that any of it was really me. But this time, I found my type. After some initial resistance, I found that I’m an 8. I’m a warrior. I’m a challenger. I am powerful, dominating, self-confident, decisive, willful and confrontational. I am able to shoulder huge responsibility. I am soft-hearted just beneath the surface. I find it difficult to trust others enough to acknowledge any sort of vulnerability. I feel a responsibility to intervene in and direct situations.

This is what I am and how to deal with me:

The Asserter (the Eight)

Asserters are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.

How to Get Along with Me

• Stand up for yourself... and me.
• Be confident, strong, and direct.
• Don't gossip about me or betray my trust.
• Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side.
• Give me space to be alone.
• Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me.
• I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack.
• When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.

What I Like About Being a Eight

• being independent and self-reliant
• being able to take charge and meet challenges head on
• being courageous, straightforward, and honest
• getting all the enjoyment I can out of life
• supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me
• upholding just causes

What's Hard About Being a Eight

• overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to
• being restless and impatient with others' incompetence
• sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it
• never forgetting injuries or injustices
• putting too much pressure on myself
• getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right

Eights as Children Often

• are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit
• are sometimes loners
• seize control so they won't be controlled
• fugure out others' weaknesses
• attack verbally or physically when provoked
• take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings

Eights as Parents

• are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted
• are sometimes overprotective
• can be demanding, controlling, and rigid

When I’m feeling secure (which I mostly do these days), I move to my security point, which is a two…the helper. I’m generous and giving. I will do anything in my power to help a friend. I won’t say no to someone in need…even if it puts me out. But stress me just a little, and I snap back to my usual warrior mode. Try to take away my autonomy, and I become angry and scared. If you push me a little farther, threaten me, or if I feel that I’ve just been fighting too much, I head toward my stress point, the five. An Observer. I will shut down all my emotions and step back. I will retreat from relationships that are stressing me. I’m just not going to engage with you if you are creating stress for me.

This really makes sense to me in a lot of ways. I like to feel powerful. Not over other people, just over my environment and my life. I like to feel that I can change and do anything that I need to. That no matter what life throws at me, there is something that I can do, say, or throw back that will keep me in control. If you take away my power (as my mother is very good at doing, or as pregnancy and childbirth did to me), I am nothing. I am a wreck that doesn’t know which way to turn. I can only climb out of that wreckage by finding something that I can have power over again. This is why my obstetrician and anaesthetist hated me when I had my kids. I researched every aspect of their jobs and knew how to do it better than they did. And told them about it. Constantly. Poor guys.

So what can I do with this? Recognizing that I need to feel powerful is the first step in letting go of that need. Maybe if I know that a loss of power is what’s making me angry or afraid, I can stop that reaction and say to the person “Hey…this is really getting to me. Can we find a way that I can regain some control over what’s happening?” And if I can do that one time out of a hundred, then that’s an improvement. I can also realize that my powerfulness scares some people. I am assertive and confident. I expect my friends to stand up for me with the same energy that I would use to stand up for anyone attacking them. I have no patience with people that I perceive as weak or ignorant. But maybe they aren’t weak…just different. I can try to temper my impatience with people that aren’t as assertive as I am. It will be hard, but I can try.