Personality is a diagnosis
Not a label
Over the Christmas break, both Alex and I took a week or so off. It was lovely. We hung out with Rory, stayed up late, slept in, and did a whole lot of nothing.
One thing we DID do was revisit an old classic book in our family: Sandra Maitri’s The Spiritual Dimension of the Enneagram. (I will say, if your BS detector goes off at the slightest hint of ‘spirituality-speak,’ the bells are going to be incessant while reading this book. But if you can get past that, it’s profound).
I don’t know if I’m an enneagram expert, but I am an aficionado. I’ve always been pretty solid on my Enneagram Type (I’m a Type 9—The Peacemaker). But for the longest time, both Alex and I thought she was a Type 7 (The Enthusiast). She has these enlivened moments that are so 7-ish—playful, adventurous, curious (and, yes, enthusiastic).
But over Christmas break last year (yes, this book seems to call to us during Christmas, it seems), in the middle of an epic bout with insomnia, I read the chapter on the Type 7 and shook my head. Nope… Not Alex. She’s way too grounded to be a 7.
(Sorry, 7’s, we all have our stuff.)
I flipped back to the chapter on Type 1 (The Reformer) and BINGO. Nailed it! She’s a 1, through and through.
But here’s the fascinating mechanic of the Enneagram: It isn’t static. The types are connected by lines of movement. When a Type 1 (who’s typically disciplined and perfectionistic) feels safe and healthy, they actually “move” to Type 7. They drop the mental clipboard and pick up the surfboard (or snowboard in Alex’s case). They stop analyzing and start enjoying.
This specific mechanic—that we aren’t stuck in one place—is something Maitri articulates better than anyone else, and it totally changed how I view the Enneagram.
So this year, reading the same book (which, as I type this, it’s interesting how this book seems to call to us at Christmas time), I had another revelation…
For years, I thought the enneagram system was like the ‘Hogwarts Sorting Hat.’ I thought the point was to identify as a certain type (for me, the hat revealed ‘Type 9’) and then stay within those boundaries.But Maitri suggests that personality is actually a diagnosis, not a label.
Think about getting the flu. You exhibit flu-like symptoms (fever, aches). But the point isn’t to identify with the flu. You don’t say, “Well, I’m a Flu Type, so I guess I’ll just stay feverish forever.” No. You recognize the symptoms so you can heal.
It’s the same with personality. Our “Type” is actually just a set of symptoms we develop because we’ve forgotten a core truth (and here’s the ‘spiritual’ aspect of the enneagram)… about God. We stop trusting God to be God, so we build a personality to manipulate life ourselves. And the way we manipulate life is based on our fears and insecurities. I’ll use Alex and I as examples…
My Diagnosis (Type 9): My symptoms stem from forgetting that God is Love/Peace. When I was born, a core part of me forgot this. Because I forget that, I think I have to force peace into being. I manipulate my life to blend in and avoid conflict. But when I do this, I mute myself. I force-feed myself Italian food when I really wanted sushi because I’m scared to rock the boat. (This is what I’m working on with my enneagram-focused spiritual director, at the moment.)
Alex’s Diagnosis (Type 1): Her symptoms stem from forgetting that God is Perfection and has the world in hand. Because she forgets that, she feels she has to force perfection and “rightness” into being. She forgets that she is swimming in God’s perfection, so she “efforts” hard to earn it by making everything correct.
The point of the Enneagram isn’t to just wallow in those typological symptoms or put yourself in a static box. It’s to realize you’re already in a box so you can climb out and move around more freely.
Because it’s a diagnosis, it opens up hope beyond said diagnosis. When I stop “efforting” Peace and simply trust that nothing I do can ruin God’s love, I realize I’m actually allowed to exist (yes, I’m laughing as I write this). That’s when I naturally move toward the best qualities of a Type 3 (The Achiever)—I get stuff done and share my voice. When Alex stops efforting perfection and trusts God’s infinite intelligence (even when it might not be apparent), she relaxes into the best qualities of a Type 7—she becomes joyful and adventurous.
I think this shift is huge. Seeing personality—or any kind of identity, really—as more of a diagnosis rather than a label. A label keeps us stuck in that thing. A diagnosis says this is where we are now. But it asks the follow-up question: “So now what?”
(More on that soon.)
Beautiful reflections Jonas, so clear and helpful!