What motivates you?

That's the question I'd love to ask everyone I meet. What makes you tick? What insecurity are you trying to accept or talk yourself out of, depending on the day? What is the one thing you're always looking for, and would you like some help finding it? What's the most common refrain of the running commentary in your head? (What? You don't have one? And you know a nice doctor I might want to call?)

I think nature or God or genetics has worked this out pretty well: those people I know who concern themselves with this question seem also to be the ones best equipped with the particular insight and talents to figure out the answers.

The question asked by people on the other side of the spectrum, I think (not that you can ever narrow it down to two of anything in this world, but this is my blog, so stuff it, naysayers!) is something along the lines of "How do things work?" "How does this process affect that process?" "What's the best strategy for getting this done?" "What happens if I tweak this piece here?" My dad is one of these. So, unequivocally, is my nephew. At 17 months, he's already endlessly fascinated with things, and figuring out how and why they do what they do. He's an engineer in the bathtub, pleading for running water so that he can fill one measuring cup with the other and working out how the rubber ducks can spew streams of water. He inspects musical instruments to see why they make the sounds they do. He's got cause and effect down solidly.

His sister, on the other hand, is more prone to making up stories of romance and intrigue with the rubber duckies. My niece, at 3-1/2, is more attuned to her feelings than some 30-year-olds I know. She's had a heck of a month, as her mom wrapped up a three-year residency, all of their belongings were packed into boxes and disappeared into a moving van, and she was forced to say goodbye to the "family" of people she'd always known in favor of a completely unknown future. She's here at Grandma's house for the weekend (I'm here as relief pitcher), and she's sad.

"Auntie Jessie? Can you play with me for a little while?" she asked me at the park today.
"Of course, honey. What should we play? Do you want to go on the swings again?"
"Actually Auntie Jessie, I just want you to sit here and talk to me. I'm feeling sad. Is it ok if we just talk instead of playing?"
"Yes, honey, let's talk."
"OK. I miss my mama. Can I go home now? I mean to my real home city. Not the new one."

So I sat and held her as my heart broke, and I assured her that even though her mama's not here right now, there were four grown-ups here who loved her very much. Approximately thirty seconds later, she brightened up and we could distract her again. Even though she's precocious as heck and wise beyond her years when it comes to self-knowledge, she is after all a preschooler, and there's a whole new world out there to explore.

Where does personality come from? After a lifetime of not-terribly-brilliant thought experiments whose subjects are me and my sister, I've come to believe it's neither nature NOR nurture. Otherwise we'd be bound to have at least *something* in common, right? :)

What I wouldn't give to jump inside other people's heads sometimes. Instead I will have to be content with surrounding myself with people who practically let me.