Type 5
Fiveness from the Inside Out
Ava Ingram
I am tired of reading about fiveness as written by others. It is not that there is anything overtly incorrect about what is written, but it appears to be written with as much detachment as is ascribed to us Fives, and believe it or not blood does run in the veins of some of us at least.
When I read (EM February, Handwriting and Type Five) “I would like to give type Five a body…” – “…it would be immediately clear, were it a psychic play between full and empty, it would be empty that prevails…” – “…isolation defines the Five character” and so on, I felt overwhelmingly that I would like to describe what it feels like to be a living Five, I would like to give a subjective description of my own experience. I would like to confirm what you all know so well, that we are all unique, and the descriptions on paper are disembodied as we Fives are described as being anyway in a sense.
Ava Ingram
I am tired of reading about fiveness as written by others. It is not that there is anything overtly incorrect about what is written, but it appears to be written with as much detachment as is ascribed to us Fives, and believe it or not blood does run in the veins of some of us at least.
When I read (EM February, Handwriting and Type Five) “I would like to give type Five a body…” – “…it would be immediately clear, were it a psychic play between full and empty, it would be empty that prevails…” – “…isolation defines the Five character” and so on, I felt overwhelmingly that I would like to describe what it feels like to be a living Five, I would like to give a subjective description of my own experience. I would like to confirm what you all know so well, that we are all unique, and the descriptions on paper are disembodied as we Fives are described as being anyway in a sense.
The Five and the Outward Use of the Mental Center
Fabien and Patricia Chabreuil
In our article, “Steps to a Unified Model of the Enneagram” (published in EM issue #44), we described how each type uses its preferred center. For example, we described how the Five is not well aware of his internal life or his body, and uses his preferred (mental) center outwardly. We have since been in correspondence with Fives who have questioned this description—specifically, the apparent contradiction between the outward use of the mental center and the vice of the type, avarice, which brings up the image of the Five holding everything inside.
We thought this concept was widely used by the Enneagram community and so stated it only briefly in our original article. However, we now think it is worth further examination.
My First Encounter with the Enneagram
Elizabeth Wagele
I remember the first time I heard the word.
It was after a meeting I’d attended. We were putting on our jackets to leave.
With a sparkle in her eye, Kate said, “you know that “nine” thing?” I assume someone in the group said, “You mean the Enneagram?” but I didn’t remember the word until I had heard it about 40 more times.
“The what?” I said. (Doesn’t everyone the first time?)
“The Enneagram. It’s this ancient spiritual system that says there are 9 different kinds of people. I’m a Six. Ann over there is a Two.”
I was mesmerized by Kate’s enthusiasm and the sound of the number nine. The words from the Beatles’ song, “number nine, number nine, number nine” started bouncing around in my head.
The Dynamic Enneagram: Fives
Tom Condon
In America we have something called the “Adopt-A-Highway Program” in which an individual or an organization can volunteer to sponsor litter collection on a mile-long section of a highway. In return for paying a monthly fee, the sponsor’s name is posted on a sign visible from the road. The money pays for an Adopt-A-Highway maintenance crew which picks up litter, erases graffiti and landscapes the one-mile stretch.
Once I was driving through a remote part of Northern California. The road was long and straight, cutting across a high, lonely volcanic plain. At a particularly barren, windswept point I saw an Adopt-A-Highway sign coming up. Curious about who would take responsibility for a patch of road so far from anywhere, I slowed down to read the sign. “Loners of America,” it said.
Tom Condon
In America we have something called the “Adopt-A-Highway Program” in which an individual or an organization can volunteer to sponsor litter collection on a mile-long section of a highway. In return for paying a monthly fee, the sponsor’s name is posted on a sign visible from the road. The money pays for an Adopt-A-Highway maintenance crew which picks up litter, erases graffiti and landscapes the one-mile stretch.
Once I was driving through a remote part of Northern California. The road was long and straight, cutting across a high, lonely volcanic plain. At a particularly barren, windswept point I saw an Adopt-A-Highway sign coming up. Curious about who would take responsibility for a patch of road so far from anywhere, I slowed down to read the sign. “Loners of America,” it said.
