My mom studies a personality system called The Enneagram. She started learning about it when I was in the 5th grade, and has become an avid student and talented teacher of this powerful and multifaceted system. A lot of the time, it drives me absolutely bonkers. Most conversations can’t go 5 minutes without making a reference to someone’s personality type, be it hers, mine, or some random friend/student/teacher/acquaintance of hers who, by the time the conversation is over, I will know more about than I’d ever want or care to know. This woman lives and breathes the Enneagram. It is her life’s work, her purpose, her dharma. She is passionate, driven, relentless. And she knows her shit.
I’ve experienced a turbulent relationship with the Enneagram over the years, as I tire of my every action being scrutinized and analyzed and boiled down to my “type” (number 4, in case you were wondering). But today I find myself in a space of gratitude and acceptance around my mother, the Enneagram, and my personality type. Perhaps it is because I am going to see two well-respected Enneagram teachers in the community speak tomorrow, or because I just picked up a new book that takes a more growth based approach to dealing with type. Or maybe it was because I saw my mother in action today as she gave a workshop, giving me the opportunity to witness her hard work and passion she exudes in all that she does. Or maybe I’m just growing up.
Regardless of why, I’m here now, feeling grateful for the Enneagram, my mom, and all that it it/she has taught me over the years. The Enneagram has provided me with a powerful tool for self-understanding, offering me a level of clarity and insight into my personality and interaction with the world that is not readily available to most. It has had a significant impact on my development, cultivating a high level of self awareness that I have no choice but to continue to nurture and grow, for the rest of my time on earth.
For better or for worse, the Enneagram is a part of my life, and for now, I accept. Maybe tomorrow I will reconcile, maybe then, we’ll birth something new. (See: The Law of Three)
I’ve been so blessed in this life, something that I overlook far too often. Here I will take some moments to recount that for which I am grateful in my life; the things that calm me, the things that make me smile.
Chamomile smiles, for miles and miles.
I dreamt I was pregnant. Her name was chamomile.