Episode 86: special // Tuesday, June 30

Back in March, the idea for a series about the Enneagram began as a joke. My brother David posted the following post on Facebook:

“I have a request for your next "Shelter in Place." What is the worst enneagram, love language, Myers Briggs combination for being quarantined if you catch the coronavirus? Please evaluate all the pros and cons of different options.”

Not to be outdone, my witty, sardonic sister-in-law Hilary, who you heard from in episode 75: the Helper, responded with this excellent breakdown:

• Type 6—their fearfulness, generally counterable by fact, is now confirmed by fact. Their worst fear has actually come true.

• Type 1s will accept that it is only fair for them to get sick.

• Type 2s will be lonely and woe is me but secretly feel relieved to be free of all responsibility for others and to be “obligated” to care for self.

• Type 3s will use it as a chance to boost themselves on social media.

• Type 4s will feel special and attention worthy, like they now have a story to tell!

• Type 5s will be interested in analyzing the statistical probability of their catching COVID-19.

• Type 7s will have a blast exploring new connection points and indoor hobbies, and distract themselves from suffering and/or be grateful it wasn’t worse.

• Type 8s will be pretty frustrated by their lack of control, but will find a way to complain about the system and speak out about injustice.

• Type 9s ... okay I am actually stumped there. But I think they’ll be fine as always?

We all had a good laugh, and I thought Hilary’s diagnosis of the nine types of the Enneagram was actually pretty accurate. 

But as the weeks have turned into months, I realized that David’s tongue-in-cheek suggestion was a good one. Here we are in this time when our world is changing faster than we can keep up with it. We’re being asked to reevaluate just about everything. In this time of political division and racial tension, we desperately need to understand each other better. It’s shows us that there isn’t just one way to experience this world. 

There is much dispute over the origins of the Enneagram, and there are different schools of thought on it today. Books about the Enneagram have accounted for over a million book sales. I have read six of those titles, and I’ll include my favorites in the show notes for today, as well as some online resources that I’ve found helpful. 

But now is as good a time as any to tell you that for a long time, I didn’t believe in the Enneagram at all. 

I first encountered the Enneagram in my early twenties. I had always liked personality tests, and I was so gung ho that I paid for the full version of the Enneagram test.

The first time I took it, I was a fun-loving, hedonistic 7.

A couple of years later, I took it again. This time I was a world-reforming 1. 

A few years later, I was a performative, high-achieving 3. 

But each time when I read the descriptions of the types, they seemed off. I resonated with parts of them, but not the whole. Perhaps I was just too complex for the Enneagram. 

In my early 30’s, when I was a new mom, our church had a leadership retreat, where they divided us up into discussion groups based on our Enneagram type. I was skeptical, but I obliged, because I have deep respect for our church leadership. If these wise, thoughtful leaders were standing by the Enneagram, I figured I probably should, too. So I took the test once again. This time I was a nurturing, helpful 2.

As I sat among the other 2s, it was quickly and painfully clear that I was in the wrong place. Listening to the other 2s talk about how natural it was for them to anticipate the needs of those around them, I couldn’t relate. But I also had no idea where I was supposed to be. 

It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I revisited the Enneagram once again. I was away on a girls’ weekend, and someone had suggested using the Enneagram as a way to get to know each other better. 

That first night, I picked up one of the books my friend had brought along, and read the preface. I was surprised to read that according to this author, the best way to figure out your Enneagram type was not to take the test, but to read through each of the short descriptions for the nine types. I later recalled that I’d been given these same instructions by our church leadership, but had ignored them.

So I read. Partway down the list, my face grew hot. And all at once, I knew. It was so obvious that I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before. And I did not like what I read. The description I read of myself was dead on in the worst possible way. This was not a glowing description of my fine contributions to the world. This was a brutally honest assessment of my worst faults. 

I didn’t really want to talk to my friends about it that night, but I did anyway. Which, in retrospect, was probably a mistake. Because all I could hear from them that night was that my deep well of big emotions was overwhelming to them. They’d seen me through a two-year period of depression, and it wasn’t pretty. They did their best to be kind and gentle in their assessment of me, but what I heard in their words was that I was too much. 

Which I now know is the central lie for the Enneagram 4. 

Even though fours are often artists and creatives, it was a type I’d always skimmed over before. I didn’t think I was a four because I read somewhere that fours hated being “normal.” That they wanted to stick out, and be different. And I didn’t think this was true of me. I didn’t see myself as some kind of unicorn. And I didn’t really like being singled out in a crowd. I didn’t feel the need to dress weird, or pierce my tongue, or get a tattoo. As a middle kid, I spent a lot of my life feeling left out, wanting to fit in with the people I loved most, and grieving my inability to do that.

What I realized that night with my friends is that a four doesn’t just feel different because they think they’re special. They feel different because they think they are lacking something essential that everyone else has. They’re experience of life is so intense that they have trouble finding people who can sit with them in it. The irony is that the emotional complexity that makes fours special is also the very thing that prevents them from feeling as special as they long to be. While healthy fours can be amazing listeners who aren’t afraid of your worst pain, unhealthy fours can fill an entire conversation nattering on about themselves, never once pausing to take a breath to ask you how you’re doing.

Their greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. Their victory is their downfall. 

As painful as it was to have this harsh mirror held up to me, I’m grateful for it. And also, it’s what I appreciate about the Enneagram. Because my experience is the experience most people have with the Enneagram when they finally find their type. The best thing they have to offer the world is also their worst. We all have the capacity for greatness--but we also have the ability to become monsters. Sometimes we are both of those things in the very same day.

What I appreciate about the Enneagram, is that there is enough nuance and flexibility within the model to account for both, and to help us see the warning signs when Dr. Jekyl is about to become Mr. Hyde.

It was that nuance that finally helped me understand why I tested so many different ways over the years. 

Each type has a central pitfall, and the four’s is envy. As a twenty-something who had not yet come to terms with my tendency toward melancholy, I desperately wanted to be viewed as fun. I envied the 7’s ability to laugh their way through life--or so it seemed to me then. I answered the questions not as I was, but as I longed to be.

When I tested as a 1, a type known for their ability to reform and improve, I was a second-year grad student getting my MFA. I was experiencing success as a writer for the very first time. I’d won my graduate school’s short story award two years in a row, and been awarded a prestigious teaching fellowship that paid for my tuition. Every number moves to another number in strength. When fours are feeling strong, they move to the healthy side of 1. They can put aside all those big feelings and pour their creativity into vision and action--which is exactly what I was doing at this time in my life when I felt really strong.

But each number also moves to another number in stress. When fours are struggling, they move to the unhealthy side of 2, often known as the helper. When I took that Enneagram test as a new mother, I wasn’t doing great. I felt like a milk-machine whose needs no longer mattered. I definitely did not feel special. It took me years to figure out how to be not the mother I thought I should be, but the mother I actually was. 

The Enneagram helps us to see how we show up differently in different moments of our life. No one is good or noble all the time. Even the most corrupt and self-centered among us have moments of common grace. I have had many moments in this quarantine where I came face to face with the worst version of myself. I’ve seen that version in each of my family members, too. As a country, we’re seeing our best and worst selves during this time, coming to terms with all the challenges that complexity brings.

The Enneagram reminds us that whether we’re talking about individuals or a nation, we have a choice. We can keep making the same mistakes when we see each other at our worst, or we can choose to be gracious. 

When I come up against conflict in my relationships, stepping back to look at the situation through the Enneagram helps me to be more compassionate and understanding. 

I don’t agree with everything I’ve read about the Enneagram, and there are still times when I’ll read something and think, “nah, that’s not for me.” Which is probably a four thing. But the gift of daily sanity that the Enneagram has given me--the gift that I want to pass along to you today--is that while the need to feel special is a four thing, all of us have something special to contribute, and we need each other. 

The Enneagram shows us that when we make life all about ourselves, when we focus on what we don’t have, it’s no surprise when we’re miserable. 

But when we listen before we speak, when we actively recognize and celebrate each other’s unique contributions--in those moments, our differences become something to treasure rather than fear. Just as holding a camera can give you an eye to see beauty in the mundane, seeing the world through the Enneagram can train your eye to spot the gifts of the people around you. That kind of vision makes it possible to call out the best parts of each other. To lift each other up when we’re down. To live not in conflict, but community.

Before I go, I want to thank several new supporters of Shelter in Place.

Tyler and Anne Elliston, you have shown us how to embrace change and uncertainty to pursue the things that matter most to your family. Your entrepreneurial gifts and courage are inspiring us as we follow your lead, and your friendship and support mean so much.

Anne Leaché, I’ve lost count of all of the times over the years when you’ve sent kind notes that made me feel seen and heard. Your faith, constancy, and encouragement have been an enduring gift.

Emily and Donavan Chandler, thank you for showing my family and me what real friendship looks like. You have seen me at my worst, and made me feel special too many times to count.