For all my author friends, this girl is for you!
*Research from the Enneagram Institute
“The committed, security-oriented type. Sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy. Excellent “troubleshooters,” they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious—running on stress while complaining about it. They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious. They typically have problems with self-doubt and suspicion. At their Best: internally stable and self-reliant, courageously championing themselves and others.”*
- “Basic Fear: Of being without support and guidance”*
- “Basic Desire: To have security and support”*
“Key Motivations: Want to have security, to feel supported by others, to have certitude and reassurance, to test the attitudes of others toward them, to fight against anxiety and insecurity.”*
Meet Louisa Pearson: Enneagram 6 Musician
(Pearson Sister #4)
Check out Louisa’s Pinterest board!
Drink: Peppermint hot chocolate
Food: Mint brownies
Art form: Literature
Love Language: Gifts
Louisa’s Book Introduction
The door creaked open, and Victoria spotted Louisa, her fourteen-year-old sister, snuggled up in the four-poster bed, book in hand. Her brunette hair hung long over her fleece nightgown.
Victoria walked to the bed. “Louisa, why are you awake?”
Louisa set her book down. “Stella wanted to sleep, but I wasn’t tired.”
A laugh escaped Victoria’s lips. “Stella’s only nine, and she needs her sleep. So, do you.”
Louisa’s green eyes sparkled. “I just couldn’t stop reading. Not in the middle of the story.”
The pillow-like comforter called to her, so Victoria flopped next to her sister. “Understandable.”
“How was the concert?” Louisa wiggled her feet under the sea of shimmering crimson.
“The Tchaikovsky was amazing. Professor Chang’s interpretation blew me away.”
“She’s a fabulous musician,” Louisa said. “But I don’t understand how she can play a solo in front of all those people.” She shuddered.
“I’m sure you get used to it over the years. New York-trained musicians develop a thick skin.”
Louisa’s face fell. “You’ll be just like Professor Chang when you go to New York.”
Victoria reached out to stroke Louisa’s long hair. The silky tresses slid through her fingers like butter. “I promise I won’t forget about you. See?” Victoria pulled the chocolate box from her pocket. “I remembered.”
As Louisa closed her eyes, she inhaled. “It smells delicious. Like mint.”
As Victoria creaked open the front door, a whirlwind of notes assaulted her ears. The minor key of the piano piece lent an ominous tone to the atmosphere, appropriate for the night. The level of difficulty surpassed that of novice. Must be Mom. For some inexplicable reason, the music drew Victoria, as if calling her to join the musical frenzy.
Darkness encased the room like a curtain. A lamp in the corner and a candle next to the piano served as the sole sources of light.
Though the notes flitted like bats moments before, they faded into nothingness.
When Victoria reached the piano, she drew a quick intake of breath at the sight of the musician. “Louisa, I thought you were Mom.”