How I’ve Focused My Attention and Energy on What Is Missing As an Enneagram Type Four

Posted on by Astrid

I’ve been meaning to write more, seriously. There’s a lot on my mind, but somehow I can’t find the words to express myself. To get started, I chose a prompt from the Enneagram-based journaling prompts book I own for my type. As those who’ve read about me and the Enneagram before will know, I’m a type Four or the “romantic individualist”. The first prompt for my type in this book asks me how I’ve focused my attention and energy on what is missing.

On the surface, this seems to resonate with me, in that I’m always looking to improve my situation even when I’m relatively content. I don’t mean right now – right now I’m far from relatively content. However, back when I was in my former care home, honestly I had it pretty good and even so I was focusing on what was missing. In that case, this was, among other things, a sheltered institution environment. I badly wanted to live on institution grounds and completely lost sight of what I would lose if I took the leap to move here. And that was a lot.

In a sense, focusing on what’s missing isn’t necessarily bad. It allows a person to consider steps to improve their life. For instance, something I’ve often missed is to be a more contributing participant in my care home. Today, my assigned staff and I were discussing my birthday and I mentioned wanting to help cook the meal one of the weekend days (the staff only cook homemade meals on weekends now) around my birthday. She told me this doesn’t need to wait till my birthday and we now have a plan for me to help cook köfte for the home next week.

Often, in this sense, a wish to improve my life starts with something I’m missing. At other times, it starts the other way around, with an impulsive idea to buy something only for me to realize later on that something I feel I’m lacking in is underneath this impulsive idea. An example is my former assigned staff at my old care home having mentioned the idea of me getting a mini fridge. I got all excited, started thinking up ideas, but eventually it turned out I was missing certain supports.

As an Enneagram type Four, I am always longing for something. In this respect, the idea that I’m “always dissatisfied”, as my staff think, is sort of correct. That doesn’t mean I need to settle for something that’s absolutely unsuitable, like my current care home, though. Yes, I took the leap, but that doesn’t in itself mean I am forever stuck here. I am hoping that, if I ever find a place to live that is slightly less unsuitable than my current care home, I can stop chasing the ideal and start embracing what’s missing as an opportunity for growth in myself as much as for improvement in the situation.

Linking up with #PoCoLO and #SpreadTheKindness.

Longing for Belonging As an Enneagram Type Four #Write28Days

Posted on by Astrid

Welcome to my first post in #Write28Days, a writing challenge I use for self-exploration too. Today’s optional prompt is “Longing”. I haven’t had ideas in mind for what to write about many of the word prompts, but for this one, I definitely have.

That is, the first thought that sprang to mind was not really a thought, but a feeling. A feeling of wanderlust, of always seeing that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. The actual feeling in my body is hard to describe. I could probably best describe it as a longing for perfection.

I am an Enneagram type Four. As a Four, my core life strategy is that I must be understood uniquely as I am. In the real world though, there is no-one exactly like me, so who is going to completely understand me? No-one is!

Yet, like most other Fours, I long for this elusive ideal of a perfectly fitting life. I see this in my constant search for the perfect care home. I know all care homes have their drawbacks, but in my heart, I always feel there must be somewhere where I will be fully understood and, as a result, my needs will be completely met. Newsflash: there isn’t.

Most Enneagram type Fours experienced some early trauma, distress or loss and keep chasing after that lost sense of belonging. I feel, in a sense, that so do I, but in a sense, I also feel as though I never belonged. Yet my longing to be fully understood, as well as my belief that there must be someone, somewhere out there who will, shows that I have the capacity deep within me to belong. If only I could stop fleeing from that capacity towards the apparently greener grass of a new external source of belonging!