Quiet Power: Part Four

These are all examples people give of their safe spaces—calm retreats for relaxing and recharging. Another term for this safe space is the “restorative niche.”

The restorative niche can be as small and nearby as a chair in your bedroom, or as wide and majestic as a sandy beach—or anything in between.

He uses it to describe a physical or even a mental place that allows you to shut out the noise and chaos of the world, to be alone with your thoughts and feelings, and to rejuvenate after a long day of being around people.

A restorative niche gives us an opportunity to find our optimal zone of stimulation—and our energy.

Although he regularly delivers rousing speeches (which usually end in standing ovations), he found that acting like an extrovert was completely exhausting.

After his funny, insightful performances for delighted crowds of students and executives, he often needs to retreat to a peaceful spot for some alone time.

So he fibbed, informing his hosts that he had a passion for boats and that he hoped they wouldn’t mind if he spent his lunch hour walking along the river. They obliged and, thankfully, not one of them shared this make-believe passion, so they left him alone to stroll.

Each year, he used that stroll along the river to recuperate between talks.

But it’s important to understand the distinction here. When I suggest seeking out a restorative niche, I’m not recommending a place to hide (though of course we all need to hide sometimes). It should be a place to take a breath, unwind, and recharge so that you can face the normal pressures of the day.

In another famous study, introverts and extroverts were asked to play a difficult word game while wearing headphones that emitted random bursts of noise.

When the participants in the study were allowed to choose the volume of those noises, the introverts opted for a lower decibel level than the extroverts.

After a long night of battling nefarious villains, he retreats to his Batcave, a cavernous underground lair.

After a long night of battling nefarious villains, he retreats to his Batcave, a cavernous underground lair.

“I think tuning out sound and people is something I do subconsciously. Nobody else can go in there. That feels safe.”

Whenever Jenny would retreat to her room, hoping to decompress and be alone, her little sister would bang on the door a few minutes later.

“If I’ve hung out with people all day, I’ll usually be less prone to say, ‘Okay, let’s do something together.’”

It rained the whole time, which put a damper on the family’s plan to swim, sail, kayak, water-ski, and hike.

“Throwing somebody else into the mix took some of the pressure off Jenny,” her mother said. To her surprise, instead of detracting from the sisters’ time together, that extra person actually helped them get along.

“You get to describe the parameters of what happens in your room,” Suzanne explained. “So if you’re reading quietly, someone else can come in and read quietly too, but they can’t come in and turn on music and start to dance.”

“One of the things we’re trying to teach Gabi is that being in a relationship doesn’t mean incessantly talking.” Simply being with someone, sitting near them in their room, also counts as quality time.