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What are Your Gifts?
I was inspired by an idea from Dr. Bastiat’s post on intelligence. @django mentioned that he was a person who could see things outside the standard patterns that others missed. That’s quite a gift. I was thinking that each of us (unless you’re a young whippersnapper) knows our gifts, especially those that we appreciate and others do, too!
For example, I have been told in certain environments when things are confused and chaotic that I can see into the heart of the matter, and can clarify the situation for others. I like having that ability and having it appreciated. I also have convinced people that I am a person who handles conflict well and tend to be balanced and even-tempered on Ricochet. You should see me in real life! Actually, my experiences on Ricochet have helped me grow a great deal in this regard, so I consider those of you who have “triggered” me to be my teachers. Thank you.
I’m sure many of you have dozens of talents that you treasure and that have been appreciated by others. Or you may treasure them and others hate you for them. Or others love them and you hate them. H.m.m.m…. I thinking I’m getting sidetracked.
Anyway, would you mind sharing your gifts? Rather than just artistic gifts (which you are welcome to include), you might think of the gifts you have that show up in your interactions with others.
So, what are your gifts?
Published in Culture
I used to be a good athlete. I’m in my high school’s athletic hall of fame. I was All-Ohio in football and track, and even 30 years later I still hold some discus records in various track meets. My avatar picture is me throwing a discus when I was 17 – the first time I broke my school’s record.
And for the technique critics out there, no, I don’t recommend trying to throw a discus while flying through the air with your eyes closed. But I relied much more on speed and explosiveness than on power and strength. In general, it’s a good idea to keep your feet on the darn ground. And technically, I’m still touching the ground in this picture. But hey – it worked for me.
Now I just work all the time, so my athletic achievements are limited to getting up out of a chair, which is getting harder and harder.
I have very athletic kids, though. Two of them are scholarship athletes at major division I schools (Duke and Georgetown). So the athletic ability I passed down to my kids saved me A LOT of money.
I had a series of late teen-age experiences that instilled a lot of confidence and helped me later in life since I was pretty much alone by the time I was twenty. Some of you may remember when high school seniors chose ‘superlatives’. Though my grade performance was mediocre I was chosen Most Intellectual, the only accolade I ever achieved in high school. Then I took a written test competing for an NROTC Holloway Plan Scholarship, passed it, passed the physical, but was not selected. So I did that same thing again the next year, passed again, and was selected. I thought I was destined to be a Navy or Marine fighter pilot but it never worked out that way, probably a good thing since this all happened in the late fifties. I was a contemporary of John McCain and undoubtedly would have been flying in Vietnam.
Well, ’tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free, and I’m both of those — especially the former. And freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose.
I tried to get class clown, but they voted me “Most Studious” and “Most Likely to Succeed.”
You gotta Shaker that thing?
He might be right, it might be a gift, but polarity is backwards on the wiring.
What school? What part of Ohio?
Morgan High School, in McConnelsville, in southeastern Ohio. We were in the sme conference as Sheridan, Riverview, Tri-Valley, Philo, etc. I graduated in 1987.
I’m old and cranky.
The background of the photo looked kinda familiar and wooded, almost like my high school. Columbus Academy, just northeast of Columbus. I forget the conference we were in now.
Prolific science-fiction (and science-fact) author Isaac Asimov was sometimes regarded as egotistical because he was quite open about his own intellectual gifts. But he preferred to call it “cheerful self-appreciation.” I’ve always rather liked that.
In work situations, I find that I tend to be good at analysis; I like to look at a complex problem and tease it apart in order to find the real underlying issues (most complex problems are really multiple, intertwined, simpler problems). This is often a source of annoyance for me; I get really frustrated when people answer the wrong questions, or talk past each other.
I’m an excellent speller. I make typos, sure, but it’s rare for me to misspell a word when I’m paying attention.
I can compose music, or at least I could back when I actively pursued music as a hobby. I’m trying to get back into it now, though in a different style.
Mostly, though, I am known for almost superhuman humility. I am probably one of the most humble people ever to have walked the Earth.
I once got a fortune cookie that said “You find the beauty in ordinary things. Appreciate this gift.”
I kept the little scrap of paper. I’ll admit that I am a whippersnapper, but I think my gift is that I can appreciate actual garbage more than most can appreciate actual wealth.
I went to Denison for college, in Granville. Got stopped in a speed trap on 161 in New Albany once, on my way to Columbus. I think Columbus Academy is somewhere in that neighborhood. Can’t remember.
I’m stealing that one and making it mine!
Too funny! Well done! Thanks, @bartholomewxerxesogilviejr!
Good for you! We need more enlightened whippersnappers, @samuelblock!
You could run for office as a Democrat . . .
On the positive side, I was pushed into corporate management because people saw in me abilities I didn’t see in myself, and I turned out to be a pretty good manager. I was particularly good at keeping people and teams focused on the highest priority goals and redirecting them when they started down sidetracks. [The downside is that some family members thought I was too directive in family matters. My mother sometimes complained that she thought I was cross-examining her when I was trying to understand her wants and needs.]
Yes, this kind of thing is important to keep in mind. For most of my career I have suffered from a sort of impostor syndrome: I didn’t take praise well, in part because I never thought I deserved it. I always knew that I could do better, and that made me feel like I was a fraud when people were happy with my work.
I can’t say I ever overcame that feeling fully, but along the way something did occur to me: if all of these people I respect keep telling me that I’m doing good work, why should I assume I know better than they do? They’re judging me based on results, and they’re not distracted by my internal monologue that constantly tells me I’m not giving it my all. They’re able to be more objective about my work than I am.
I still have a hard time believing that I deserve to succeed in my job, even after 27 years, but I have at least learned to be gracious in response to praise.
I’m so glad you learned that! Something similar is when a person tries to say thank you to another, and the other person essentially doesn’t accept the thanks because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. This was true for my husband. I asked him, instead of brushing off my thanks, to simply respond with “thanks.” It was hard for him at first, but he’s got it down now!
I’ve no idea about any special gift. I’ve learned that I’m pretty normal at most things. I’ve completed several ironman length triathlons, the last one at age 67. So, I guess that could be a sort of gift not shared by many. I’ve observed though that people tend to do most what they think they do best. I worked for a supervisor who arranged and organized. Couldn’t lead his way out of a wet paper bag, but if you needed organizing, he was your man.
Reminds me of an old military story. New battalion commander comes in. The old colonel does the normal hand-over, but then points at a drawer in the desk, “There are three numbered envelopes in that drawer. When you run into trouble, open the first envelope for advice.”
The new commander nods and immediately forgets about it as he ushers the old commander out of his new domain.
But a few months later, he is having a leadership crisis. Looking for something else, he opens that drawer and sees the envelopes. He vaguely remembers what the last colonel had said, so he opens the first envelope to find that it has a single sheet with this advice, “Blame the previous commander.”
Well, he’s hesitant at first, since that’s not good leadership practice. But he thinks about it, and he realizes that the previous commander must have done it if he’s recommending it. The old fellow must have also known that he would get blamed since that was his advice, and he had left the envelopes. It continues to niggle at him, and he knows that it will work, so he gives in and uses the advice. And it works. Everything smooths out again.
Everything goes nicely for about six months. Then another crisis emerges. This time, he remembers the envelopes right away, but he isn’t sure of the size of the crisis, so he holds off on opening the second. But after another few weeks, he gives up, not knowing what else to do, and opens the second envelope. The single sheet has only one word: “Reorganize.” The commander thinks about it, and realizes that it might just work. Move some officers around. Move a few others out. Maybe move a few new ones in, and everything might just settle down. So, he tries it, and of course, it works.
Again, everything goes smoothly for several months before another crisis comes up. He’s sweating it. He tries everything he can think of. He knows he has only one envelope left, so he doesn’t want to use it up. Nothing he tries works, so he finally goes to the third envelope. He opens and pulls out the single sheet to read these three words: “Prepare three envelopes.”
Knowing when to hold my tongue (usually).
Damn right it’s a gift! I get winded driving that far . . .
sarcasm and snark
Now how do I monetize that?
Well, I’m sure not paying for it! You do other things too well!
You do lose power if you are in the air, but then you get a higher point of release . . .
I threw in high school and college (more shot than disc, and I was decent, but not elite). It is hard to find knowledgeable coaches at the high school level. Would have loved YouTube in my day.
MSNBC
Comedy Central
Writing for lefty talk show hosts
Become a podcaster on Ricochet . . .
A fellow thrower @vancerichards– very cool!
I was small but extremely fast for a thrower – 6’2″ and 220 or so. So I was pretty good in discus – threw in the low 160’s in high school. Set a lot of records. I wasn’t good in college – 130’s – the bigger discus was a problem for a little quick guy. But with speed, athleticism, and technique, I could at least compete in division III – I’d win small meets, and try to place in big meets. But as the meets got bigger, so did the athletes, and that was a problem for me. At one big meet, another competitor asked me for a towel. I said, “Actually, I’m competing here today.” He responded, “Oh, sorry, man.”
Bad sign.
In a movie, I would have beaten him anyway. But I didn’t. Real life is no fun sometimes.
Shot put was worse. I threw 52 feet in high school (with a skate – no spin), sometimes a little better, which was pretty good but not great. I hated shot put, but I won a lot of meets. But in college the shot goes from 12 pounds to 16 pounds, and I just didn’t have the size and strength for the darn thing. I was horrible at shot put in college – I got close to 40 feet, but never passed it. But with a 16 pound shot, being big and strong really does help. My size was a real problem there. Another problem, honestly, was that I didn’t like shot put, and spent more time practicing other events.
I loved football because of the tactics, gamesmanship, intensity, and so on. A small athletic guy could be effective in football, even in college, by playing the game really well.
Track and field is very different – there’s really no gamesmanship or strategy. You can either do it or you can’t. Who runs fastest? Who is strongest? Who can jump the highest? That’s it. Discus and pole vault have complex techniques that allow people like me to be more competitive than we probably should be. But eventually, I kept banging up against the glass ceiling of my own mediocrity. You do what you can, with what you have.
But did you ever toss the caber?