Miles quote of the day:

[azurelunatic]

What God means you to do, Miles's theist mother claimed, could be deduced from the talents He gave you.

I have been given the talent of words, the talent of understanding some machinery, the talent of hearing what people say and translating it to others.

I am obviously a documenter?

What talents have you been given?

Comments

[iroshi.livejournal.com]

And what is one meant to do, when one has yet to find something that one can *not* do? Miles not only excelled at the war games, he took an "unholy joy" in them. I am an excellent writer, but I hate doing it. (Nonetheless, it's something I have to do, whether I like it or not. ^_^) I apparently had a very early appreciation for playing the drums. Time will tell whether I can turn that into a skill instead of just an instinctive talent. I am very, very good at organizing, but I hate to maintain my organization. (I'm doing surprisingly well at this at work, though, mainly because I have to redo the work every month; it's a constant cycle. It keeps me going and less bored with the organizing.) I am good at listening, at understanding the problem, and saying the right thing to fix it...or at least set the speaker on the road to fixing it. I am good at playing with energy. I do research, follow logical arguments, and incorporate conclusions into my worldview...and then lose the research; I have less idea than I would like as to how I came about certain of my strongly-held beliefs. I understand them; in my head, they're fully functional concepts, with grounding and completion, but I have no way to explain them to anyone else, or give defense to arguments against them.

What I am *bad* at, is willpower. At pushing myself to do things...even things that I *want* to do. If you can figure out what God means me to do from all that, by all means, enlighten me. ^_^

[azurelunatic]

Then find your unholy joys, for they are surely holy.

My unholy joys are in writing, scheming, cleaning-up-now, and hacking programs.

Short attention span, though.

We may have much of the same difficulties.

Re:

[iroshi.livejournal.com]

The only things I have found so far that give me unholy joy are about performing. Dancing, acting, playing music. Despite being an introvert, I actually *can* gain energy from a crowd--if they're focused on me. I enjoy paperwork, organizing, typing, and almost any kind of computer work...but they don't give me *joy*.

[azurelunatic]

Well then.

The only thing I've found so far that compares to the fiendish glee of one of my writing-trances is a programming-trance.

[amberfox.livejournal.com]

I'm good at almost anything I have to do, but I don't find joy in much. Which isn't to say that I'm always depressed! I'm generally a pretty cheerful person, as iroshi will tell you. But it's usually not what I would refer to as joy. I can only think of one thing that brings me joy: solving math and programming problems. High-level algebra and calculus literally make me giggle and kick my feet with glee, much to the disturbance of our ex-roommate Brian (ravensinger). Producing simple, elegant code that works flawlessly has the same effect. Though many people who know me would find this a bizarre statement, I'm actually something of a minimalist perfectionist: I like things clean, neat, organized, simple, and logical.

[azurelunatic]

I can organize my stuff perfectly, if there are logical places to put everything.

So far, that's been the problem. If there's not a logical and convenient place to put things away, it collects.

I know what you're saying about math and code. I had some recent drama with Darkside where some of my programmy-glee manifested as a hug-and-kiss to him, which he did not appreciate.

[amberfox.livejournal.com]

Exactly. I need a lot more shelves and drawers and folders, and lots and lots of labels. Boxes might work, but I'd need lots of them in different sizes, and some sort of shelving so I don't have to stack them. I'd never be able to get things without making a mess if I stacked them.

[azurelunatic]

I use binders and drawers, like my father. Little things are put into the little drawers and boxes one sees for storing fishing flies and screws and nuts and bolts; papers are hole-punched or slipped in plastic sleeves and filed in binders, by subject and by date.

Other things are more questionable. I have many little plastic tupperware-type things, for use in containerizing some of the more odd. My Rita Skeeter nails are in one.