Home | Mr. Kindshell – An INFJ Christmas Story

Hey everyone, I’m Erik Thor, an expert on using personality psychology for flow and personal development.

Mr. Kindshell – An INFJ Christmas Story

Just like Santa Claus carries all the gifts and dreams of kind children on his back, there is a turtle called Mr Kindshell. Mr Kindshell is not a normal turtle, no, he’s an INFJ turtle.

This is my INFJ Christmas Story.

Somewhere in the world lives a boy full of worry, his life is a mess, so this is his story. People like to shrug over stress, they say “just buckle up” and “don’t be a mess.” But you know, that’s not how emotions work.

Anxiety can creep up on you any day, sometimes for a reason, and sometimes just to play. So too, for this boy, his pain was no ploy. His life no fairy tale, you could see the tears in his eyes glister from far far away. And even if you think no person will understand, there is a turtle far away, with a pen in his hand. The turtle, he lists, all the people who cry. He notes down their hopes, and promises to try to figure out why. And then, he makes his way, one step at a time.

Mr. Kindshell, so slow, he walks to the boy, through sunlight and moonlight, always on the go. He knows not to rush, for the stress would be too much. He needs his powers, his mind to be clear. Instead, like a seer, he allows himself rest, his house on the back, he can always lay down. He’s blessed, because he knows his own presence is his throne. The turtle takes time, to whistle and rhyme, to enjoy all the days, as he walks through the waste. Not even rain can lessen his smile.

His hard shell a metaphor for stubbornness and pride, his footsteps leave marks as he go. Small hints of wisdom, and some just of joy. And though the boy may not hear, his salvation is near, for the turtle is soon to be here.

No zest, no joy, not even from playing with his favourite toy. Yes, this is truly the saddest boy. Forced and contrived, his smile is only pretend, the boy sits down on the swing. From one side to another, for minutes, then hours, he wonders just what is the point? Can not darkness flicker every light?

Then he sees, first with fright, a creature so heavy, yet somehow, someone able to walk oh so steady. Who is that turtle, and why is he here? His fright turned to marvel, he smiles and he cheers, as the turtle comes near. At first, they both stare, but then the turtle nods – this boy deserves a ride on the happiness bus.

Together they talk, about big questions pressing, family, life, conflicts and pain, the turtle just lets you complain. He’ll never say that you’re lame. He hmms, and he nods, and he carries you a block, and then comes to a stop.

From here, you must make your own way, Mr Kindshell parlayed.

The boy understands, his legs feeling lighter, his pressure is less, and his darkness is brighter. He gets up and takes a new step. The turtle was not here to take my pain, but to start me on the road to healing.

So the boy let the turtle go, and then, suddenly, it started to snow!

It was Christmas after all.

And though you may think your pain will never fade, the turtle will one day make his way to you, too. It might just take a while, because, you know, he’s a turtle.


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