The Great American Ommission

Today something hit me. There is someone in my life who is "very thorough". (Isn't that politically correct?) This person is almost detail-oriented to the point of fretting over details that never even existed in the first place. It's almost like this person needs something more to do with her/his time. But because of her/his status, s/he generally makes me feel like a failure, almost 100% of the time. I fret and worry as to why I didn't notice details - many of which probably don't matter at all, but seem to be a huge deal to said person. I am drained of my energy and ability to think. I need a good bit of time to recover from this person - a person who is always giving unsolicited advice and "help". Especially when I don't ask for or need help. This person is still there, advising away, like he or she has got all of the answers, as though I can't think for myself. When I'm alone again, I feel like my life comes back to me.

It's those times, right after interacting with this person, that I'm truly grateful for some alone time. I need a few moments to clear my head, figure out if I'm ok, figure out what I'm thinking and what my next action should be, and generally relax.

This week, I'm reading through the book, _Introvert Power_ by Laurie Helgoe, Copyright 2008 (Sourcebooks, Inc., Naperville, IL). I read through a section last night that finally meshed this morning with what I'd figured out about the interactions I mentioned earlier.

Regardless of how dead we feel in a crowd, we cling to the uniquely American assumption that associating is good and necessary and solitude is suspect... Solitude is indeed "the great ommission in American life." We are told to have family values, to be a team player, to have a huge wireless network. More is better and there is never enough. How did we get so far away from our selves? (emphasis mine)

Is there something that should be left out of your life?