Reorientation

I remember many things people have said about me in my youth; I have reminders of them, having assiduously retained report books and testimonials and diaries. But as I finish my last year as a thirty-something young man, and look ahead into the murkiness of the forties, I wonder how much was me and how much was acting.

Take for example that venerable Myers-Briggs test. For years, comments from relatives and friends, and even successive readings of the MBTI proclaimed me to be an INTJ. But looking at my diaries and notes, I realise that while I was intensely introverted as a child, I also had a naughty streak that eventually became a full-fledged bridge into the external world.

As one ages, one's creativity can variously become a source of inspiration, embarrassment, irritation, encouragement or perplexity to one's colleagues, friends, family and other acquaintances. Mine seems to have tilted the balance between introversion and extroversion - so far, most indicators show the extrovert very slightly ahead. Coupled with other maturing indicators, I seem to have become an ENTP. How very odd!

The judgemental introvert of the past has become a perceptive extrovert. According to this version of the test, the mastermind has been replaced by the inventor; the free-thinker is now the innovator. Does it stop there? Who knows? Perhaps I should just accept suggestions for Act III.

The Greater Trumps: (20) Imagination

The chalice hangs suspended over the lake. The lake ripples, but we do not know whether what comes forth will be the arm of a lady in white samite, brandishing a sword; or the afanc, roaring anger at being awakened in this age. Behind the chalice, or perhaps above, we see two curiously wise eyes - we cannot tell whether they belong to a man or a woman. The lake might be a river's mouth - we see it banked to the left and right, but cannot glimpse a farther shore.

The scene is too full of imagery, too full of potential, for anyone to see all the possibilities. But one thing is clear, from the wise eyes to the vanishing point of perspective, from the chalice and the ripples: this montage symbolises Vision and Possibility. It isn't the extravagant chance of the Wheel, nor the inner vision of the Hanged Man - it is the outward gaze, with too many things within its scope.

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It isn't always hardcore poetry. Sometimes, I'm affected by the power of song lyrics; especially those of Lennon and McCartney. Here are some lines from John Lennon's Imagine:

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Of course, it's a somewhat secular utopia which is offered to us. It doesn't convince me, but it does make me think about the ideas which frame our humanity, and what lies beyond that frame.