Personality Test

Today Tanya asked me, “Have you ever taken a personality test?” I said, “No. Should I?” A stupid question. Of course, I should. So I took it. And what I got is SO me! I cannot believe that only 30-40 questions can determine your personality with such accuracy. What? Wow! I thought you may be interested too - http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/jtypes2.asp.

http://typelogic.com/enfj.html
http://www.humanmetrics.com/vocation/JCI.asp?EI=11&SN=-38&TF=-75&JP=44
http://keirsey.com/4temps/teacher.asp

Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging
by Joe Butt

Profile: ENFJ
Revision: 3.0
Date of Revision: 23 Feb 2005

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ENFJs are the benevolent 'pedagogues' of humanity. They have tremendous charisma by which many are drawn into their nurturant tutelage and/or grand schemes. Many ENFJs have tremendous power to manipulate others with their phenomenal interpersonal skills and unique salesmanship. But it's usually not meant as manipulation -- ENFJs generally believe in their dreams, and see themselves as helpers and enablers, which they usually are.

ENFJs are global learners. They see the big picture. The ENFJs focus is expansive. Some can juggle an amazing number of responsibilities or projects simultaneously. Many ENFJs have tremendous entrepreneurial ability.

ENFJs are, by definition, Js, with whom we associate organization and decisiveness. But they don't resemble the SJs or even the NTJs in organization of the environment nor occasional recalcitrance. ENFJs are organized in the arena of interpersonal affairs. Their offices may or may not be cluttered, but their conclusions (reached through feelings) about people and motives are drawn much more quickly and are more resilient than those of their NFP counterparts.

ENFJs know and appreciate people. Like most NFs, (and Feelers in general), they are apt to neglect themselves and their own needs for the needs of others. They have thinner psychological boundaries than most, and are at risk for being hurt or even abused by less sensitive people. ENFJs often take on more of the burdens of others than they can bear.

TRADEMARK: "The first shall be last"

This refers to the open-door policy of ENFJs. One ENFJ colleague always welcomes me into his office regardless of his own circumstances. If another person comes to the door, he allows them to interrupt our conversation with their need. While discussing that need, the phone rings and he stops to answer it. Others drop in with a 'quick question.' I finally get up, go to my office and use the call waiting feature on the telephone. When he hangs up, I have his undivided attention!

Functional Analysis:

Extraverted Feeling

Extraverted Feeling rules the ENFJ's psyche. In the sway of this rational function, these folks are predisposed to closure in matters pertaining to people, and especially on behalf of their beloved. As extraverts, their contacts are wide ranging. Face-to-face relationships are intense, personable and warm, though they may be so infrequently achieved that intimate friendships are rare.

Introverted iNtuition

Like their INFJ cousins, ENFJs are blessed through introverted intuition with clarity of perception in the inner, unconscious world. Dominant Feeling prefers to find the silver lining in even the most beggarly perceptions of those in their expanding circle of friends and, of course, in themselves. In less balanced individuals, such mitigation of the unseemly eventually undermines the ENFJ's integrity and frequently their good name. In healthier individuals, deft use of this awareness of the inner needs and desires of others enables this astute type to win friends, influence people, and avoid compromising entanglements.

The dynamic nature of their intuition moves ENFJs from one project to another with the assurance that the next one will be perfect, or much more nearly so than the last. ENFJs are continually looking for newer and better solutions to benefit their extensive family, staff, or organization.

Extraverted Sensing

Sensing is extraverted. ENFJs can manage details, particularly those necessary to implement the prevailing vision. These data have, however, a magical flexible quality. Something to be bought can be had for a song; the same something is invaluable when it's time to sell. (We are not certain, but we suspect that such is the influence of the primary function.) This wavering of sensory perception is made possible by the weaker and less mature status with which the tertiary is endowed.

Introverted Thinking

Introverted Thinking is least apparent and most enigmatic in this type. In fact, it often appears only when summoned by Feeling. At times only in jest, but in earnest if need be, Thinking entertains as logical only those conclusions which support Feeling's values. Other scenarios can be shown invalid or at best significantly inferior. Such "Thinking in the service of Feeling" has the appearance of logic, but somehow it never quite adds up.

Introverted Thinking is frequently the focus of the spiritual quest of ENFJs. David's lengthiest psalm, 119, pays it homage. "Law," "precept," "commandment," "statute:" these essences of inner thinking are the mysteries of Deity for which this great Feeler's soul searched.

Famous ENFJs:

David, King of Israel
U.S. Presidents:
Abraham Lincoln
Ronald Reagan
Barack Obama

William Cullen Bryant, poet
Abraham Maslow, psychologist and proponent of self-actualization
Ross Perot
Sean Connery
Elizabeth Dole
Francois Mitterand
Dick Van Dyke
Andy Griffith
James Garner
William Aramony, former president of United Way
Gene Hackman (Superman, Antz)
Dennis Hopper (Speed)
Brenda Vaccaro
Craig T. Nelson (Coach)
Diane Sawyer (Good Morning America)
Randy Quaid (Bye Bye, Love; Independence Day)
Tommy Lee Jones (The Fugitive)
Kirstie Alley ("Cheers," Look Who's Talking movies)
Michael Jordan, NBA basketball player
Johnny Depp (Pirates of the Caribbean)
Oprah Winfrey
Bob Saget America's Funniest Home Videos, Full House
Julia Louis-Dreyfus ("Seinfeld")
Ben Stiller (The Royal Tenenbaums)
Peyton Manning, Indianapolis Colts quarterback
Matthew McConaughey (The Wedding Planner)
Pete Sampras, Tennis Champion
Lauren Graham ("Gilmore Girls")
Ben Affleck (The Sum Of All Fears)
John Cusack (High Fidelity)

Bougainvillea

There’s this amazing tree peeking from behind a fence in the middle of the block on the 7^th street between Melgar and 5^th Avenue. It attracted my attention because it has 3 different colors of flowers. Isn’t it fascinating that the same tree would have three different colors? Liang educated me that actually it’s not the same tree, it’s just three different vines planted together, and it’s called bougainvillea. Less fascinating, but no less beautiful.

5/1/2011 - Labor Day

I intensely dislike crowds. I hate parades. Any huge public gathering – with one exception of my beloved Gogol Bordello concerts – pains me. Yet, I remember with great fondness how my father used to take me to the May 1^st Parade on the Palace Square. We went every year because we lived in a communist country and he was a big boss at a military plant, so he had no choice but to attend things like this, no matter how passionately he despised the regime.

I remember this amazing feeling of holiday that you can only feel when you are a child. You wake up with this tangible anticipation of something big about to happen, possibly even something magical. It was always sunny and warm on May 1^st in Saint-Petersburg. It could be snowing the day before, but on May 1^st the Gods of Communism provided good weather, no matter what. My mom liked to “take advantage of the day” by cleaning the apartment (although it still beats me how this can be considered “taking advantage”), and when I woke up the chairs were already overturned onto the table and there was this distinct smell of water in a floor-washing bucket – very fresh yet always with a hint of mold or dust, all floor rags inexplicably start smelling this way eventually. The bucket would be in the middle of the room with half of the floor looking cleanly wet and the other half untouched – my mom would clearly be somewhere else, either cooking breakfast or washing sheets, she has a habit of forgetting to finish one thing before starting the next.

The room would be empty but it radiated presence of my parents at home. Both my dad and my mom worked a lot and we never really had a chance to spend much time together, so every weekend was really precious, and occasions like this were triply precious because May 1^st meant almost a whole week of festivities (May 1^st is when they celebrate Labor Day in Russia and May 9^th is the Victory Day to commemorate WWII, and we usually had almost all this time in between off).

It also meant guests! My parents loved to entertain and threw fun parties that I was always allowed to attend although I was almost always the only child in the crowd. It was fascinating being around adults. I didn’t even mind enduring the initial humiliation of having to recite some long poem or play the piano “for the guests” – that was my entrance ticket to the secret world of adult conversations, adult jokes, adult gestures.

And it meant visiting! One thing I loved even more than receiving guests in our house was visiting my parents’ friends at their houses. I cannot explain this obsession but I enjoyed it tremendously. And even though some houses gave me total creeps and I wanted to run away screaming, I would be sure to show up there again and again because I was invariably pulled by some invisible magnet of the possibility of exploration. The differences of homes puzzled me. Some made me feel perfectly relaxed and comfortable whereas in others I would be afraid to sit down without permission.

My mom never joined us for the parade – she had to continue “taking advantage of the day” and wash everything there was to wash in the apartment including windows (May 1^st also signified the beginning of spring, at least in our household, and so did the cleaning of windows). I was secretly glad she "couldn't" join because I had always been embarrassed by my mother. Plus, I was pleased to have the undivided attention of my father. She must have sensed it because before we left she would make sure to sufficiently torture me with tightly braiding my hair and putting huge bows in - festive. This part would always threaten to spoil my day, but if I avoided looking in the mirror before leaving the apartment, I could quickly forget how ridiculously I look and dive back into my happy excitement.

And then I don’t really remember anything. Not our way to the parade, not the parade itself. I very vaguely recall this sensation of being in the middle of an organized demonstration carrying some kind of poster and periodically shouting out some communist songs, feeling proud to be walking with my dad, feeling safe among all those unknown men and women just because he was next to me. I can never get a grip on this feeling, it’s always so elusive. But I’m so glad I can still remember – if not fully feel – this unconditional happiness, this openness to anything that brings you to adventure, this state pure being, this sense of life just beginning… And is it possible that I dislike crowds now just because my father is not here to take care of me during the parade?..

P.S. A historical note on the holiday

The official name of the May 1^st holiday is International Workers’ Day, but we call it Labor Day in Russia. Interestingly, the day is supposed to commemorate the 1886 Haymarket Massacre in Chicago (workers demonstrating for the eight-hour work day, etc.), and yet in the States Labor Day is celebrated in September. Apparently, it is because the American president at the time – Grover Cleveland – didn’t want to associate the Labor Day with commemoration of a riot.

In Latin America May 1^st is the Great American Boycott Day, a general strike of illegal immigrants against some immigration legislation they felt was draconian. In Latin America people “celebrate” this day by trying not to speak English or buy anything American.

P.P.S. A ridiculous piece of information found on Wikipedia.org

In 1955, the Roman Catholic Church dedicated May 1^st to “Saint Joseph The Worker”. The Catholic Church considers Saint Joseph the patron saint of workers (fine), craftsmen (excellent), immigrants (all right) and… people fighting communism (REALLY?).

4/30/2011 - Mental traffic

I have noticed lately that I always have some song or other playing in my mind. Sometimes several songs. Sometimes I can almost see them elbowing each other, fighting for my undivided attention. But I don’t want to pay attention to any of them! In fact, I’m greatly annoyed by this invasion. “You won’t admit you love me and so, how am I ever to know, you always tell me, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…” – “Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tam, MARIA policia!” – “You won’t admit you love…” – “Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!” – “You won’t admit…” – “Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tam!” I want to get rid of them, but they just won’t go away!

It’s very ironic that the very first day of my quest for presence should start this way. They say, that you cannot achieve presence if you constantly have “mental traffic” – thoughts, songs, images crowding your mind. To be able to be completely aware of the moment you are in you need to be free of all mental garbage. Is it possible though? I guess, this is where meditation comes in.

The purpose of meditation is to bring you to the state of “calm awareness” through freeing your mind from the perpetual thought-forms. And the way to do it is not by avoidance of these thoughts, but rather by careful scrutiny of each. Thoughts, in order to lose their hold on us, must be understood for what they really are – the result of emotional needs and desires on the many levels of our being. There exists a constructive healthy mode of thinking and an unhealthy destructive mode of thinking, and it is meditation's true purpose and responsibility to bring an individual to a clear understanding and definition of that difference of mind and thought patterns. And only then you can truly hear yourself. Apparently, all those thoughts and songs that you have on repeat in your head are not really you, it’s your brain (as if your brain is not you – argh, confusing), and you need to free up some space for your essence to speak up.

When diving I have absolutely no mental traffic issues. My mind is perfectly empty and still and my “essence” constantly gives me a sensation of pure happiness. Maybe it’s the pressure that pushes all those thoughts out? Or – and this is much more likely – because you are forced to always listen to and hear your breath. After all the easiest way to enter a meditative state is to focus on your breathing. And while diving you always here you own inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale – and when you enter this loop, you start meditation automatically. Should I just start breathing through a regulator above water as well? Maybe then those stupid songs will finally give up on me!

4/29/2011 - Presence

In only a couple of days that Irina and Thijs were here, I've discovered a ton of new places in Cozumel. Truly, the best way to learn about the place you live in is to have friends over. Normally, I don't ever go to the beach, because I'm not really a beach person – I dislike the heat and I really dislike the sand, especially when combined with salt water. But Irina and Thijs love the beach, so I had to find something nice. Luckily, I have Ana here who is a big fan of snorkeling, and following her suggestion we went to Playa Corona in the south of the island.

It's a tiny little beach with great snorkeling, a small café and – what's most important – hammocks. As long as I'm given a hammock, I can endure anything. Even the heat and the sand. They all wanted to snorkel, so I joined to give it a try. Well, it's nice. But really nothing to write home about. I quickly got bored and retreated to my hammock. The guys spent at least an hour in the water and came out all bubbling with excitement. So many fishes! Barracudas! Crabs! Sea fans! More fishes! This is spectacular! So beautiful!

Slowly, the excitement subsided, the heat and beer took over and imposed a contemplative silence on everybody… I was startled back to reality by Irina's surprised voice, "How strange that I've been swimming in different seas for so many years and never even imagined all this life below me… all these fish have always been there, and all I had to do to see them was to put my face in the water and look."

Really, how many things do we miss just because we don't look for them? Do we see only what we expect to see and miss everything else? How present are we really at every given second of our day? That's it, I'm going to set out on a quest for my own presence in this world. I'll report what I discover.

4/28/2011 – More students

Irina and Thijs came to Cozumel for 2 days to visit me, get a sense of the local scene and take a Discover Scuba Diving class. They are a fascinating couple: she is an extravagant artist – theater costume designer, and he is an earnest rocket scientist (well, he is in biophysics I think, but it's all the same to me). She is Russian, he is Dutch. She is talkative, he is quiet. She always finds something to complain about, he is the easiest going person on this planet. You couldn't find two other people who would seem so different in every possible respect, yet there must be something major that connects them, because the relationship works and has proven to be a model of stability. But as much as I'm tempted to start analyzing the intricacies of romantic relationships, I'm not feeling 100% up to it right now, and everybody would probably agree it requires full commitment to the subject.

The evening of their arrival we tried the diving equipment on, and Irina set out on working herself up.

"There's no way I'll be able to do it. It's just too much for me. Masha, what are you going to do if I cannot do it? But it's good for you – you'll get to experience what it feels like to teach a really difficult student. Have you had anybody that difficult before? – I kept silent because I knew she wouldn't really stop for my answer, and indeed she continued in her usual exalted manner. – We tried it once in a pool and I was absolutely unable to descend. It was just too overwhelming."

"But darling, - Thijs intervened. – You did descend in the pool, remember?"

"No, I absolutely didn't. I was too scared to stay down and I immediately went up for the surface. Well, Masha, you'll just need to learn for the future, to know how to deal with people like that…"

I let the exchange wither on its own, without any interruption, and in a little bit we set the time for our class the next day. I drove them back to their hotel – a charming B&B called Tamarindo. It's funny how you can tell right away that the place is owned by a woman – every little detail is carefully thought through and taken care of, from the color of the coffee mugs to the cut of the grass in the courtyard. They say the breakfast is very good too, so it looks like a good recommendation for lodging.

Well, she was difficult. She has very sensitive ears, and it took me hours to teach her how to descend properly, with frequent equalizing and without any finning. She is a perfect diver though, and once we managed to get down to the bottom of the ocean, she was suddenly all calm, moving gently, breathing slowly, aware and observing with fascination every little change in her physical and emotional state.

Thijs was good. He didn't have any problems and visibly enjoyed every second of it.

They were both ecstatic when we popped up at VillaBlanca. "You did it! You made me go down! You had faith in me! You are the best teacher in the world!" – Irina didn't even try to catch her breath after surfacing. I truly dearly love her!J "You did it, darling!" – Thijs echoed. "You totally did it. Both of you! And you were both absolutely amazing! I'm very very proud of you!" – I inserted my positive reinforcement bit, required by PADI standards and totally due in this case.

I was really proud of them. And I was happy, because although it was a bit challenging this time, but I truly enjoyed every second of it, which means I'd chosen my current vocation well.