The greyed grays of gray veiled over my four walled prison cell. My mind’s been playing tricks on me these days. It builds some false role play where my heart’s the main protagonist. He speaks out, absent tongued, once again proving the essential nothingness his silence means to the rest of society’s sell outs. Counting the countless footsteps across the synthetic white sand, I aimlessly wonder my role in this world. Why is my soul still wandering? This is purgatory I suppose, if such a concept exists. A barren wasteland streamlined with illusions to fill our gaping holes. Our hearts’ cries met with cold silence, maybe a little casual sex and some standardized guy with a six pack will make us feel whole again. Maybe making ourselves sound societally competent by reading the times and opposing capitalist framework will make our lives worthwhile. Or maybe this is all just one fucked up dream. Yeah…that sounds better. Life is all a dream. We are everything. We are nothing. The nautical nothingness is the answer to it all.
We can never stop researching, especially when it leads each of us down an enlightening path of self discovery. Ever since I laid eyes on it, I couldn’t help but to steer my attention at the Riso and Hudson’s Enneagram. I personally it find hard to define, for these nine levels of personal awareness could be anything your heart, mind, and/or soul desires. Riso and Hudson describe as it that “hunch,” or virtual void in one’s soul that takes a whole lifetime to diligently fill.
What I find the most interesting is that this concept, much like the human mind, is on a constant evolution. You embody every type to a certain extent, however, one of the nine essences will be at your core. If you share the same interest of discovering your hidden potentials and wish to create a sense of it all, the Enneagram becomes your trusted guide in digging through all the bullshit. The emotion you will feel while reading through each of these will bring up familiar scenarios, some more comforting than others. It’s almost as if your reading some bestseller with the sole difference that you’re the main protagonist. I mean, come on, wouldn’t you be pretty thrilled by that? Along with a link, I’ll give you a little walkthrough with each of the types, along with a fair share of insight as to other theories related to the Enneagram. I genuinely hope this helps anyone out there, for it sure answers many questions kept on a limbo for most of our lives. Good luck and happy soul searching!
Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people. – Carl Jung
The Nine Cores:
Type One, The Idealist: I would say that this type is one that loves perfection and idealism. They are driven, and you could say that their lives are based around a sense of loftiness and an upright demeanor that can alter the energies of others. Ones need to be careful to not come on too rigid with their lifestyles and opinions, for not everyone can have the same sense of direction that they were born with. Repression and moderating oneself is also big with this core essence.
Type Two, The Helper: These individuals are some of the biggest sweethearts you’ll ever meet. Always receptive and ready to help those in need, you can see them doing a lot for their communities, their families, and at their core, this love is what they desire in return. Many times, you’ll find them overextending themselves with others, and could become frustrated with themselves and those who they help when they do not receive the appreciation they believe they deserve. Manipulation and controlling attitudes can become a habit when they’re in an unhealthy level.
Type Three, The Achiever: These are a handful of your celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. Always aspiring to be the best in whatever they choose to do in life, a Three will overachieve, and honestly, they won’t hesitate to do it with style. With a lavish eye, you’ll see these individuals dress for success. However, on their average to unhealthy levels, they have a tendency to deceive. Like foxes duping their prey, a three may have a tendency to become amorphous, seamlessly blending in to achieve their path to success or oversell their perceived attributes and accomplishments. Narcissism and psychosis is common during the unhealthiest phases of this type.
Type Four, The Individualist: This type has a special place in my heart. The reason being is that these folks have the special ability to express their authenticity in the purest of forms. They desire to make their own mark on the world whether it be through art, music, writing, etc. Although reserved and considering themselves ‘outsiders’, their inner world is often a fantastic realm of magic, beauty, and sorrow all in one. As like the other eight essences, there is one major downfall to them–the Oedipus complex. They will harbor negative emotions to those who they believe are doing better in life. Their emotions will wreak havoc on their souls in the more unhealthy levels, causing them to lash out at those closest to them, while simultaneously seeking that “savior” to come and liberate them from the madness they are undergoing. Depression, dependency, and loneliness is common for them if they are not kept in check.
Type Five, The Intellect: I would definitely call them your brilliant minded scientists, theorists, or simply those who have an insatiable taste for knowledge and curiosity about the world. To them, it is not so much about their human connections, making them seem a bit detached, especially when they are working on a topic of interest for an extended period of time. They have the ability to accomplish much in the world, and truly bring something innovative to our society. With so much knowledge, they may struggle with a sense of apathy and nihilism, which in turn can lead to their fear of becoming useless to humanity. Their competence will go unnoticed, furthering them into an endless stream of isolation from the outer world.
Type Six, The Loyalist: This type is one that puts security and association as the top of their priority list. To them, stability is key, and many of their decisions are made keeping this concept in mind. They are extremely loyal and committed to whatever cause or person they devote themselves to, making this essence one of the most reliable ones in the Enneagram. This enhanced skepticism gives these folks a knack for problem solving, truly benefiting those who have the fortune to get to know them. However, the dark side of this type can take their same skills and turn it against them. That same commitment and loyalty will transform them into paranoid, rebellious skeptics whose self-doubt has taken a hold of their psyche. They will question everything, and in their eyes, their whole world becomes a huge “code red.”
Type Seven, the Enthusiast: Absolutely love their zest for life. These souls simply have a hunch for adventure, holding it close to their hearts. They are creative, fast moving, and smelling the roses in the vase? Nah, they’re down to run across the field collecting every kind of flower instead. Generally outgoing, the sevens will stop at nothing to lighten up your day. While other types will take things one step at a time, the seven acts with uncanny swiftness, seeing every positive opportunity that they can enjoy and relish, at least until the next one comes up. Are you seeing a pattern here? Despite their open ended approach, sevens run the risk of becoming burnt out through overstimulation, or when they feel deprived, excessively reliant on physical material acquisition in order to compensate.
Type Eight, The Challenger: The hulk of the enneagram, hands down. These people will not shy away from something that most will find too overwhelming to tackle. Their energies are felt in the environment, your typical head of the house, business, community, etc.. Eights are badass in the sense that they will push until they get what they long for, and at the end of the day, everything will go well so long as they run the show. As we all know, life has its turns and we may lose grip of it from time to time, and that is something that will drive type eight to run straight against the Mississippi River’s current. As this happens, one will start to see these folks’ insecurity come to a surface, especially with the enhanced force the eight creates in their environment in the first place. Intimidation is taken as a tactic and their tempers deteriorate with the slightest stint of disagreement from their associates.
Type Nine, The Peacemaker: Also known as the “Crown” of the Enneagram, the Nine is the most all-encompassing essence of the nine types. Like Fours, they have a rich internal world, but do not possess the envious nature that they may harbor. Like Sevens, they have the thirst for adventure close to their heart, and will be open to countless opportunities that come their direction. But that’s the nine for you. Openness and receptivity is a great way to define these individuals. Lovers and dreamers, a nine just looks for the best way to achieve a complete peace at mind, tranquility and white clouds penetrating the deepest crannies of their heart, mind, and soul. Striving for balance and positivity in their lives, they have a tendency to hold a large portion of their identity at bay, mainly because of their extreme dislike of conflict and criticism. That’s because of their desire to make their environments a free flow, rather than a murky puddle. They do have a tendency to deny reality, often retreating into their dreamlike world, well after their life’s problems have flown off the handle. To them, everything’s going to be okay, so at least they hope. As they grow unhealthy, so does their desire to completely escape. They become so lost in their heads that it’s almost as if they left their body completely. Hollowness and catatonia become the new standard for them. Comfortably numb.
Ready to find out what your type is? Here’s a couple of references if you’re interested in discovering a little bit more about yourself! Have fun with it 🙂
The Fun Test (Recommended)
The Simple Version (A short assessment, basic type revealed)
Basic Type, Wings, Instinctual Variant (Complete Overview)
Enneagram to a New Level (In Depth)
Wings, Instinctual Variants & Tritypes
For every main type you receive, unless in rare cases, you are often gifted with one adjacent wing from another type. This wing is almost like your pulling factor that affects your decisions and almost enhances your essence one way or another.
Three variants (sexual, social, self preservation) are immersed in our core essences, each of which will play a role in our lives at some point. If your sexual variant is the strongest, you desire intense connections and experiences. Social variants are a friendlier and more compliant in their demeanor. They want to be liked and appreciated among their community and those around them. Self preservation is all about acquiring the necessary comforts to survive and live well. They are more into indulging the senses and care more about their security than the other two variants.
As for a tritype, you’re born with a core essence in each center: feeling, thinking, and gut. With that, depending on your environment, both internal and external, you will go to your respected type and have the potential to combine the three and with that, create a unique essence.
September 6th, 2015:
There has come a point where the world has seen its inhabitants suffering. CNN presents a bombing one day. On the next, you will see some live coverage of politicians slashing at each other’s career all with the justification that they’re doing the ‘right’ thing for Americans. What about if we change this standardized method of finger pointing and look out into the endless horizon? I goes like this. We get together, and openly discuss the good, the bad, the ugly, and the existential. We convey this thought through out endless fountains of knowledge, we educate the public, we…see what I mean? We outgrew this cardboard box, and we have let fear enter our sensitive souls. When I say change, this is what I mean.
August 18, 2015:
I sit here baffled, listless as the calm sea breeze caresses me head to toe. In the distance, the soothing touch of the Atlantic is the only sound for miles, muffling any foreign noises from other curious onlookers. This sanctuary is something we all share. Nature, that is. It’s just one entity we cannot dream without. Yet most see its beauty, but what about the rest of it? A quarter after 7, I was driving my Camry out of that weekly date with the local shrink, only to witness the potholes filled with the refuse of 10 or more. Two miles up the road, an receptacle waits to be put to use. I guess you’re probably thinking how relevant this is to your life, right? I may not know the answer, but all I feel is the everlasting damage we’re causing to this breathing organism. I believe that our apathy towards our world will drive us further away from what we supposedly want to preserve. These captivating sights will be left in our virtual worlds of Instagram followed by an x-pro II for enhanced make up. Back to that receptacle though. Even when the refuse makes it in, where does that go? Some landfill. That same landfill, built upon years of our negligent destruction, decomposing within our soil. Some will be let free to emulsify with the elements, destroy the same ecosystem that has seen our smiles, struggles, heartaches and heartfelt moments. All of that for a Kit Kat wrapper and a 72 oz Big Gulp. This is the cause of my heartache, the fire that fuels my despair, but man, this sure is captivating. I can see the bourgeoisie’s yachts. Little fireflies with the black sea bed reflecting off their energy. Small blips in the sky with curious passengers admiring the bright lights down below. Damn. All from one summer night.
August 3, 2015:
I have a tendency to sit and observe the world with open eyes, and nah, I don’t believe in taking things at face value. Even the smallest microcosm has a story. Why it’s there, how it impacts everything on a greater scale, so on, and so forth. We live in a generation where that new tv, the Iphone 6s, or the latest edition of Kanye’s clothing line is among our top priority. You say we need a 40′ inch, yet we have a house to maintain, people to feed, adventures to be had. In our culture, it is never enough. It’s not that small microcosm, it’s that expensive Porsche. Not that kiss on the hand, but an unwearable diamond ring estimated at $4 million. People become numbers. Feelings become items. What about taking a breath and seeing those around you? That young woman sitting on the corner of 34th with the uncertainty of receiving a hot meal? Or that older couple who did everything for their children, only to be felt devoid of that same love in a lifeless nursing home. There’s more than enough items in our world. An abundance of technology. Artillery. Violence. Fights. Competition. But our world has to realize that the one thing we do not have enough of is the one thing we need the most. Love for one another. We can wait another day for the coach bag, yet that destitute individual on the street may not have a place to call home. We are expanding our living spaces, yet an increasing population of working folk are being taken away from their one story paradise. See where I’m getting at? Make a difference, show compassion. There’s never enough of that no matter what event unfold in our physical world.
August 3, 2015:
7:37 AM. Damn, how in the world will I get to work on time? I just got out of the previous one no more than fifteen minutes ago. I know it’s not my fault, but who the fuck is going to explain that to my supervisor? I can already hear the condescending droll in the back of my mind, “You are a waste of money. I have 300 other men that can take your place. Where’s your mind, Ethan? Don’t you care? I’m sure your family’d be pissed that Friday’s paycheck’s gonna be the last in years.” And the pleading begins, only to be shut down by, “Fuck off and don’t waste my time.” Generic answer for the even more generic worker ant I presume. Guess it was another day. Another emotionally draining black and white day of basic survival. But today is a different story. I am sure of it. I punch out of the dull grey apparatus at five o clock prompt, only to speed in my jalopy down the greyed and blacked commuter freeway. Left on Rogue. North on the turnpike for 30 miles. And voila, the smell of rank disposables clutch the air like smogs clog the sun. The other half of my existence. Without an utterance, the obese rice ball in a suit points to my section. I open it, and there they are. Mounds of old toys, appliances, and any other refuse for me to carry from one side of the yard to the other. Load. Unload. Load. Unload. No benefits for me, just your usual $400, if you’re lucky. Sometimes eight hours, sometimes 12. Three days and less than an hour of sleep. I guess this is happiness for you. The daily struggle to one day find that shred of happiness. It is 8:01 now, haven’t left. And you know what? Pardon the fucking delay.
July 31, 2015
Light has risen within me like a white dove experiencing its rebirth. It’s beautiful. Maybe it’s the weather. The yoga. The meditation. Who knows honestly. All I know is that Blue Moon. That blue moon’s got some undeniable power or something. It made me see a side of me that I have not been able to spot in a long time. Happiness. Drive. Dedication. Hope. Dreams. Well, I assume it’s about time I picked up a pen and paper. I’ve always enjoyed it anyway to be honest. Heh. I wish things were still 25 cents. I bet that if you stepped back into that era, the New Yorker would have been pristine. Smiling concierges, bright-eyed receptionists, and rooms that did not look like dilapidated shadows. Ugh. The humdrum of present day.
July 20th, 2015:
Let the flames bring a cleansing to my soul. An old spirit, but one that can free itself from the inner turmoil that plagues us all in this eternal oppression. I am in a new life, a new body, a new universe. I will live with it with no quarrels. I am the highest embodiment of love. Let this love emit to those who are in need, those who are finding their path, those who need that underlying strength.
There is no right or wrong way to living your dreams, just live em’.
She is here to save me once again,
A reminder of her unfulfilled past bestowed upon my essence.
Obsidian Polish pipe in one hand, glass of scotch poised in the other.
Her delicate silhouette melding with the physical, her soul imploding as the bitterness intrudes.
Not one patron knows her name, but all have felt her presence.
Wishful thinking fills her mind, longing for those images to come back.
His soulful eyes, his unassuming presence, his feint smell of cheap cologne.
Ten minutes pass and the laundry lists cease to stop.
He is her balance, but she continues to escape.
The land of dark abysses, her comfort, all she has ever known.