i am an introvert who does not process well externally. and, in fact, i don't process internally very much, either. let me explain--i process a lot. there's just not a lot of 'doing.' how i process typically looks like this:
i hunker down by myself. i write just enough thoughts to clear the top of my brain off. and then i wait. i listen. i let things marinate. and then i wait. and then i wait. and then i wait. and eventually, the process becomes part of me, part of my language. sometimes i will share tiny bits, fractions of it.
slicky processes at light speed. that is not an exaggeration. it literally knocks me on my butt sometimes to watch and hear her process. i love how her brain is wired to arrange and connect. it is like watching a super computer sift through a lifetime of information, repackage it, and deliver a finished product. in 11 seconds.
i have told her before that my brain is far less like the giant cloud of information in her head and much more like an antiquated card catalog and filing system. i am a tiny, creaky old librarian who shuffles between dusty drawers, tediously compiling data on yellowed parchment.
while our differences in process speed and available words in a day can make communication challenging at times, i am so thankful for the unique ways we work. these differences have stretched and grown me tremendously. i believe that we are being sharpened because of these differences. and that is a pretty wonderful thing.