live your life with purpose
Remember last week when I told you about learning how to do double jumps and how hard I worked to perfect them? Well, every year there was a jump rope contest. Each school was represented. There was the girls and the boys contests. The PE …
Frugal February anyone? Money-Saving March anyone? I’m doing it. I am imposing a shopping ban on myself for the months of February and March. Have you ever done that–imposed a shopping ban on yourself? I really never have. I don’t go overboard with spending, but …
I read Pat Flynn’s new book – “How To Be Better At (Almost) Everything,” because it has Pat Flynn’s name on it. If something comes from Pat Flynn I pay attention. Because I care about you as well, I wanted to give you a quick (maybe) review.
By way of background, I have known Pat Flynn for several years. He was my coach, when I was training for my first RKC (kettlebell certification). It’s been a minute. I think that was in 2011. I had my HKC and was now moving on to the next level. He made the difference for me. I have kept in touch with Pat since then. I am a member of his inner circle and Strong On and follow him on all social media platforms.
I’ve never done a book review post before, so I am not sure if there is a proper format or if I get to just say what I want. Is it like grade school, like a book report? You know, where you explain the main characters and the plot and all that jazz. I’m not sure. So, you know, I will just say what I want.
This book is a refreshing punch in the face. Is that even possible? Yes, I think it is. It will be a wake up call to a lot of people.
Pat’s subject is generalism. What does that even mean? “Generalism isn’t about learning every skill or technique in the world ‘just because.’ It’s about being better at just the right number of things and then combining those things to form a competitive and creative advantage.” So, figure out what skills you want to learn and then the practices within them.”
Generalism is being great at many things, but not the best at any one. I compare it to kids “these days.” If you specialize in a sport, say football, say grade school, middle school, high school and college, think of how you are taking it to a point where it can destroy your health. Kids especially should try different sports. I think in the long run this will save their bodies.
Pat says, “The problem with specializing is that you can actually take fitness to the point where it destroys your health.” It means that you don’t specialize. You don’t become so damn good at one thing that you sacrifice. It is kind of common sense really, and why wouldn’t someone want to be good at several things? I think it’s brilliant.
Pat breaks down the process of generalism and introduces the reader (you) to skill stacking. We have been led to believe, since a young age, that specializing is what we should do. This book puts an end to that, an end to the goal of specializing. Pat breaks down his theory and tells the reader how to become a generalist. He lays out the five key principles and goes through them step-by-step.
Pat is funny. Like really funny. Like a super dry sense of humor that some people may not get. There are some good one liners in here.
I have several favorite parts. I’m not sure why these spoke to me and I’m not sure why I picked out these parts. Sometimes you just have to listen and hear.
The first one: In Pat’s house, in his attic, he keeps a picture of himself, around third grade. Pat was a fat kid. He will tell you so. He was not athletic and hated to exercise. He doesn’t keep the picture to be motivated or to feel bad about himself, rather, he uses the picture to remind himself that he doesn’t want to be JUST successful or JUST good at things. He wants to do what’s important. He wants to do what matters. He wants his life to have meaning. He wants to make a difference. I would say he has made a difference in many, many lives. I think he accomplished that one.
The second one: This part of the book is probably my favorite. Pat talked about how he was frustrated and annoyed and needed a break. He decided he would go to a local church. The next several pages, along with the spiritual practice plan, are worth the price alone. It’s touching. It’s heart-wrenching, and it means everything! To me, it did anyway. He articulates why there is suffering and wrongdoing and injustice in this world. I loved it. Read the book just for that.
The third one: He talks about his grandfather and it so meaningful. His grandfather aspired to everything because he aspired to love people and to be a man of faith. His grandfather taught him that faith was not just believing but also trying really hard to make good on those beliefs, no matter how many times you fail or don’t live up to your own expectations.
Ultimately, we want to be happy.
This book has everything, diet, exercise, religion, meditation with a little bit of sex, drugs, and rock and roll sprinkled in.
There are so many great one liners. Here are just a few:
“Don’t make things harder without making them relevant.”
“Goddamnit, Judy!”
“If you want to do something, you’re going to find time to do it.”
“Faith will stop you from taking shortcuts.”
“Training to failure is often training to fail.”
“Get the basics down. Stick to the fundamentals.”
This book is great. I loved it. I think you will too. Pat Flynn is a great teacher. He is authentic and trustworthy. And, he’s really funny! I have so much respect for him. AND, I get to meet him in person in March. I am really looking forward to that.
You can get the book on Amazon and it’s on sale. https://www.amazon.com/How-Be-Better-Almost-Everything/dp/194688541X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1548983943&sr=8-1&keywords=how+to+better+at+almost+everything
You can find Pat everywhere on social media. Facebook: chroniclesofstrength/ Instagram: chroniclesofstrength. He can also be found on YouTube: supmuhhumbruh and he has an amazing podcast: The Pat Flynn Show. Check him out.
I was about seven or eight years old. It was the Euclid house. When I put my mind to something, I didn’t stop until I accomplished what I set out to do. Like a goal. You know that about me, if you have read …
The other night, John and I were watching American Pickers. We rarely watch that show. For some reason there was a marathon of them leading up to the Season Premiere. In this particular episode, Mike and Frank were somewhere in a giant building going through …
Her name was Debbie. Debbie Sayler. She was my friend. A good friend. She had brown hair and glasses. She was tall and slender. Skinny. It was the Central House. We lived there briefly before we moved to the Prospect house. It was after the Euclid house. Debbie lived on Capitol. Down towards the west end of town, West Capitol.
We played together a lot. Either at my house or hers. It seemed like the time spent at each house was equal. I always liked going to her house. Her mom was really nice. There was always crafty stuff going on at their house. I wanted to be crafty. I was not.
We played together and sometimes did school work and other times we played games or just did other things.
On this day, we were bored. It was warm outside so we went out and sat on the front steps. We sat there and talked about things that were important in our lives at that time.
At some point in our young lives we both watched Sesame Street. Sesame Street was a very educational series, with puppets. We learned a lot from Sesame Street, particularly the formation of words. Remember the segment where Maria and one of the puppets would have a lesson in sounding out words or forming the word and then putting it all together? A typical word may have been something like the sw sound and then the ing sound. One person would say the sw sound and the other would say the ing sound. Next they both would say the word together. So it would be sw, ing, then swing. Pretty cool way to sound out words. Pure genius.
Debbie and I did that too. We were having a lot of fun. We couldn’t stop laughing. We played this game for quite a while. I’m not sure whose idea it was. I will concede we were both at fault. Our words were more creative than Sesame Street’s though. Our words were swear words. Because why wouldn’t they be? It was educational. Sesame Street said so. And, we were learning. We were using the lessons we had learned.
We thought we the funniest kids ever. Over and over and over again, sh— it —shit. We would look at each other as we sounded out the word and then would burst out laughing. That was our main word. The other was damn. I don’t think we did the f word, but it’s entirely possible. We played and played and laughed and laughed.
I always had fun playing with Debbie.
It’s our anniversary tomorrow (January 10th). It is 21 years. It feels like two. I feel like we have known each other our whole lives, not just 21 years of our lives. The promise: I Peggie, take thee John, to be my wedded husband, to …
I’ve been reflecting a little bit on 2018. Overall, it was not a bad year. I’m grateful. I feel lucky. I love my life. I love what I do. Some people don’t get to say that. In 2018, I wrote more than I ever have …
I think I was around 10 or 11, which means we lived in the Prospect House. It was summer. We went on a vacation. A family vacation. I’m not sure what spurred this vacation. I have no idea why. We never went on vacations. We never did family outings. We never did family pictures. We never did family stuff. Not that that is bad, we just never did.
The destination was Arkansas. Why? I don’t know why. I don’t think we knew anyone in Arkansas. The trip was taken in a station wagon. You know, the colored panel ones with a crap ton of room. We could spread out in the way back and not have to worry about being seat belted in. It was not a law then. We could sleep way in the back and be comfortable. The humming of the engine, the sound of the tires rolling down the interstate made it easy to relax and fall asleep. That gentle noise always put me to sleep.
It seemed like we drove forever. Forever in kid time. It had to have been a couple of days at least. I remember when we got “there,” we stopped at a grocery store. We bought a watermelon and some other items. I only remember the watermelon. It had to be solid dark green though. That’s what dad wanted. Those were the best kind of watermelons. Why that is significant to me, I’m not sure. We went to the place where we were staying. It wasn’t a hotel or anything like that. It was a house. It was a cabin/house in the woods with lots and lots of trees. There were no other houses close by. It was strange. It was like a scary movie. I wouldn’t realize that then, but now, that’s what I feel.
This house was big. It had lots of room and a big deck on the back. We played outside. I don’t remember doing any other kinds of activities while we were on vacation. One of the days I went out back and was playing in the “yard,” if you could call it that. There really wasn’t a yard, just trees. The deck was sloped, so there must have been a walk out basement in the house.
The details are vague. It’s weird, I remember the watermelon clearly and the next incident clearly. That’s it. I remember nothing else about the trip. I remember nothing about why we were there. I remember nothing of what the inside of the house looked like, just the outside yard and the deck.
I went out to play in the back. I noticed that I could hang on to part of the deck and swing under it, like gymnastics bars. I wondered if I would get slivers from the wood. I thought I would try it. I was bored. There really wasn’t anything to do. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, my typical summer attire. I don’t think I was wearing shoes. I grabbed the deck. It was good. No slivers. I started swinging by hanging on to the boards with my hands and swinging my legs up underneath the deck. I felt something. It felt like fire. It was stinging. I wanted to let go, but I couldn’t. If I did I would fall on my back or my head. I had to wait until my legs came back down and then out from underneath the deck. My leg was burning like crazy. Once I could let go, I looked at my leg. The pattern was a circle, then another circle in that circle and finally the center. My skin was red and puffy. Huge bubbles of skin. Red bubbles of skin. Skin on fire. Stinging skin. I was screaming and jumping up and down.
Unbeknownst to me, up underneath the deck was a flying ant nest. I never even knew there was such a thing. After I had run back in the house and told mom and dad what had happened they went out and looked. I wasn’t going anywhere near there again. My leg was on fire. It hurt for days after that. I think mom put something on it to help with the sting and the swelling, but it didn’t seem like it helped much.
So that was the extent of the family vacation. I can’t remember anything else about it. I used to envy my friends who went on vacations every summer. After that vacation, I didn’t care if I ever went on another one again.
If you don’t know me, you may think I am intimidating, bitchy, even intense. However, if you do know me, you know I am nothing like that. You know I have a big heart and love to help people. You may also know that my …