Almostgotit.com

I have stolen today’s post title from a blogging friend of mine, Paul Maurice Martin, who has recently published a book.

Paul doesn’t talk much about the tremendous physical barriers he has overcome in pursuing his own vocation.  I don’t mean to dishonor him, either, by bringing it up, but after losing three of my own family members to a rare progressive illness, I know a little about the psychological and spiritual havoc a degenerative disease can wreak upon even the strongest of young men.

While I’m not in the position to comment on the content of Paul’s book, nor even upon the private nature of Paul’s daily struggles, I can certainly comment on the content of his vocational character. 

It is extraordinary, and I want what Paul has.

***

I spent a lot of this weekend admiring the work and courage of my online friends, actually. 

Emily at The Rocky Road of Love and other Great Recipes is back after a long hiatus, with a mouth-watering recipe for Rosemary Pecans.  I suspect some good holiday recipes are soon to follow, so recommend adding her to your feed reader!

The intrepid James Viscosi has published yet another of his rejection letters, which he always does with admirable good humor.  Finally we learn of his one-time aspiration to write comic books.  No wonder his whacky and wonderful dog blog, Dennis’ Diary of Destruction  has become a breakaway success!

Korrektiv is about to celebrate its 5th year Blogaversary, which is like 105 in regular human years, especially when dealing with all the obnoxious comments Almostgotit tends to lob into the mix there.  Congratulations to Quin and Rufus et al!

Reading Life on a Southern Farm always makes me sigh happily and start sucking my thumb.  The farm’s amazing chicken house is almost done, and we celebrated the unexpected arrival of a calf last Sunday.  His father is Jack the donkey, we’re pretty sure…

I’d never heard of Andrew Baisley before last week.  But last week he sent a message to our entire neighborhood mailing list that read:

Please remove me from your list. I have no idea who any of you people are, what neighborhood you are from or why you keep emailing me. 

Poor Andrew.  Turns out he is Andrew from BROOKLYN, and while he really does hope our neighbor finds her missing dog, he has better things to do than read about it.  Andrew turns out to be a pretty nice guy.  In fact, he’ll be coming to Nashville for business this week, so all of us are giving him a big SHOUT OUT from over here in Knoxville!  

Plus Also?  We’ve found Ranger, too!    

Dave Rendell asks that question on Freak Factor this week:

What’s your problem? I’m serious. What do you wish you could change about yourself? What is the complaint that you hear the most from those closest to you, your friends, co-workers, and family members? Are you too loud or too quiet, too hyperactive or too sedentary, too organized or too messy? You get the idea.

So, what should you do? Most people think that they should find and fix their weaknesses. Unfortunately, this just leads to frustration and failure. Your weaknesses are actually the best clue to your strengths. Furthermore, building your strengths, not fixing your weaknesses, is your best strategy for success.

To watch a free preview of Rendell’s Freak Factor Seminar, click here.

1. There is nothing wrong with you. Weaknesses are important clues to your strengths.
2. You find success when you find the right fit. You need to match your unique characteristics to situations that reward those qualities.
3. Your weaknesses make you different. They make you a freak and it’s good to be a freak.

So says David Rendall in his online manifesto, The Freak Factor: Discovering Uniqueness by Flaunting Weakness.    

How do I love this man? Let me count the ways.

The Almostgotits are still communing with Nature, so we thought we’d invite a much more articulate person to guest blog today. Allow me to introduce you to Isaac Bashevis Singer, a very dear man and very prolific writer in both English and Yiddish. It’s his birthday today, and these are his words:

A story to me means a plot where there is some surprise. Because that is how life is – full of surprises.

Doubt is part of all religion. All the religious thinkers were doubters.

For those who are willing to make an effort, great miracles and wonderful treasures are in store.

If Moses had been paid newspaper rates for the Ten Commandments, he might have written the Two Thousand Commandments.

Sometimes love is stronger than a man’s convictions.

The analysis of character is the highest human entertainment.

The very essence of literature is the war between emotion and intellect, between life and death. When literature becomes too intellectual – when it begins to ignore the passions, the emotions – it becomes sterile, silly, and actually without substance.

The waste basket is the writer’s best friend.

We write not only for children but also for their parents. They, too, are serious children.

What nature delivers to us is never stale. Because what nature creates has eternity in it.

When I was a little boy, they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer.

Wow.  I’ve always wondered where it was.

Video Copyright Ted.com: republished here under Creative Commons Licensing

Neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor had an opportunity few brain scientists would wish for: One morning, she realized she was having a massive stroke. As it happened — as she felt her brain functions slip away one by one, speech, movement, understanding — she studied and remembered every moment. This is a powerful story about how our brains define us and connect us to the world and to one another.

(If video is loading too slowly, you may link to it directly by clicking here. )

One of my dear friends directs an organization that works with inner city youth. 

These young people are often battered with repeated failures, but Chris believes in them, even when no one else does.  He encourages them to believe in themselves, too.

“Always Begin Again,” he tells them. Over and over.
—–

I’m helping a woman finish her latest book.  She’s old enough to be my grandmother, but whizzes around the internet like a pro and still hikes in the Andes.  She sent me an email yesterday, along with the latest installment of her manuscript. 

“This is so HARD,” she wrote.

‘But I have a sign up,” she continued, “that says ‘Failure can not tolerate persistence.”  Got it from a wonderful book called The War of Art.’

—–

Andy is home.  He called me today, and he sounded much better.  People have taken good care of him, so he was calling around to check in,  thank everyone.  His client had paid his hotel bill last night, even though he hadn’t managed to finish their show.  He added that Phillip has had some good days while he was gone, but that he himself hit another rough patch,  coming home this afternoon to the empty house.  

But he already has lots of things set up, lots of meetings with lots of people, for his business and to go over the estate, legal and financial things.   A  lot of mail had piled up while he was gone, too.  I could hear him shuffling through it.  He listed some of it for me:  Paperwork about benefits.  Insurance information for COBRA. 

And the death certificate finally came.  

“And, maybe,” he paused, “a grief counselor or something.  That might be good.”
—–

There’s a quote on scrap of paper on my desk that I’ve been trying to decide what to do with. It keeps getting shuffled to the top of my piles. I heard it last fall from an arborist who was speaking to our group about how badly our area’s trees had suffered from a year of severe drought, last spring’s late freeze, and a summer of record-setting heat.

Then he smiled. “But,  enough gloom and bad news.  I recommend, as all of us do who have the perpetual gardener’s heart: replant next spring!”