JohnA Passaro's Blog, page 23
November 18, 2019
Rearranging The Deck Chairs From My Titanic
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We Will Meet in Heaven.
An inscription carved into a deck chair
Found washed ashore some 2,000 miles
From the sinking of the Titanic.
Imagine being on The Titanic and being separated from your loved ones for the two hours and twenty minutes it took to sink into the Atlantic Ocean.
Imagine the feeling of the futility of your efforts to try to find and save them, all while ignoring the danger you are currently in yourself.
Imagine knowing that the forces at play are much bigger than you and no matter what actions you take the icy water is looming.
Imagine as a last-ditch effort, taking a deck chair that you could have used as your own floating device and throwing it into the frigid water in the hopes that it will somehow find its way to your loved ones so they could hold out long enough for someone to come and rescue them.
That really happened.
In 1912, a few months after the sinking of The Titanic,
a deck chair drifted some 2,000 miles to Nova Scotia
where Bessie Taylor found it washed ashore.
Under the deck chair was carved the inscription,
“We will meet in heaven.”
Bessie Taylor kept the deck chair in her family for years.
In 2016, after changing ownership a few times,
the deck chair sold at auction for $150,000.
A piece of a futile action by a person in a tragedy traveled many miles to new lands and washed ashore for someone to else to prosper from the event.
****
The phrase “Rearranging the deck chairs of the Titanic,”
is often used to describe a futile action in the face of impending catastrophe.
An action that may seem pointless or insignificant that will soon inevitably be overtaken by other events, an action that contributes nothing to the solution of a current more significant problem.
At times I feel I am on the sinking Titanic and have been separated from my loved ones.
And my written words are the deck chairs that I throw into the ocean.
I hope the written words from my personal Titanic will weather time and the elements and will travel as many miles to as many new lands and wash ashore and be found by as many Bessie Taylor’s who will prosper by reminding them of the preciousness of life.
I have learned that sometimes in life when you think you are rearranging your deck chairs from your titanic, when you think you’re actions will have no impact or value, what you never realize is a part of your tragedy will wash ashore many miles away, in a different land and time and will become an invaluable gift to someone else.
And that is not a tragedy at all.
Chapter Excerpt from soon to be released “Strange Angels”
PRE-ORDER NOW
November 13, 2019
When My Heart Bleeds
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When a part-time wrestler comes up short in achieving their goals one can always find what they could have done more to have had a different outcome.
That is logical. Understandable. Justifiable.
But when a wrestler who has dedicated his life to this sport and something out of the ordinary unjustifiably impedes his path and progress to his goal, well, that is
Illogical, incomprehensible and unjustifiable.
In this case, Ian Miller rightfully won his quarterfinal match in the NCAA’s in 2015 but a scoring error incorrectly sent the match into overtime where he did not get the takedown and did not advance into the semi-finals.
Every time I hear a part-time wrestler gripe about coming up short in his season I have absolutely no empathy.
That is controllable. And they elected not to take control.
It is in the realm of the uncontrollable when dreams are crushed when my heart bleeds.
All in all, I still would rather be in the camp of the Ian Millers of the world, putting in massive amount time and work, and dedicating most of my life and then having something out of the blue derail me than to know that there may have been something more that I could have done and elected not to do it.
_________
November 7, 2019
Let Me Help You Tell Your Story – 2020
I believe wrestling is the greatest sport on earth and the people involved in the sport are some of the greatest people in the world.
I know it has been an invaluable asset in my own life.
It has taught me how to fight and how to win against my toughest opponent – life.
I love telling stories about this sport and the people involved in it.
It is my passion.
Everyone has a story.
I would like to help you tell yours.
I am requesting wrestlers, coaches, parents, and fans of the sport to submit their story.
I will help you fine-tune it, edit and rewrite it.
I will then post the finished story on my blog and facebook page.
This is a great way to memorialize your story and see it in print.
Here are some tips:
Provide your unique perspective on some aspect of this great sport.Make it as concise as possible. LESS, LESS, LESS makes more.Include pictures that capture the story.Trust your instinct. Write about any topic in the sport of wrestling.
I am looking forward to capturing some great stories about the people and culture of the greatest sport on earth in 2020.
JohnA Passaro
If you would like to participate in this endeavor please send your submissions to:
Here are some finished submissions:
My Biggest Fan – by Anthony Cirillo
My Little Boy Acted Like a Man Today – by Kate Heyd
The Gamut of Emotions of a Wrestling Mom – by Eileen Nordquist
Being a Wrestler’s Mom is Tough, and I love it – by Jill Cuba
You can write about anything in regards to the sport of wrestling.
Here are a few topics to start brainstorming.
Suggested topics for submission for “Let Me Help You Tell Your Story – 2020”
For Wrestlers
What drives you to be the best?
What has the sport of wrestling meant to you in your life?
What is the biggest life lesson that wrestling has taught you and how difficult was it to learn?
Who is your biggest influence and why?
If you could wrestle one match over in your career which one would it be, why and what would you change? How often do you think of that match?
Everyone has that one match that taught them the most – which one was yours and why?
What was the best match that you have ever wrestled and why?
What is your best wrestling memory?
What does wearing the Section XI singlet at state mean to you?
How is it to be coached by (Insert your favorite coach) …
Any funny stories you would like to share?
Provide a picture that means the most to you and then describe it.
Tell me something about yourself that most people would be surprised to know?
Would you rather be the hunter or the hunted – why?
What advice would you give to a wrestler just getting into high school?
Topics For Wrestling CoachesWhat has been your greatest gratification coaching the sport of wrestling?
What is your best wrestling story?
What is the best upset you ever coached?
Describe the one kid who didn’t win a championship where you know the sport of wrestling changed his life.
Who was your biggest influence and why?
What advice would you give to a young coach just starting out?
How much of an influence do you think a coach has on a young athlete’s life, future?
When were you most proud of your wrestler?
Topics For Former WrestlersHow has the sport of wrestling affected your life off the mats?
Do you miss competing and why?
What advice would you give to a young wrestler?
Would you want your child to wrestle and why?
What is your best wrestling memory?
What was your best match you ever wrestled?
Is there one match in your career that you always think about – why?
What is the greatest adversity you have overcome in your life and how did being a wrestler help you to overcome it?
Topics For Wrestling FansWhat is it about the sport that attracts your interest?
What is your best wrestling story?
What is the best match you have ever witnessed and why?
What was the greatest upset that you saw?
Topics For Wrestling DadsWe have all made mistakes as wrestling dads, what is the one thing you learned along the way?
What advice would you give to a new wrestling dad?
What was the hardest part of being a wrestler’s dad?
Was it more important to be your son’s wrestling coach or his dad while he was wrestling and why?
What do you wish your son will pull from the sport of wrestling?
Topics For Wrestling MomsHow hard is it for the rest of the family to live with a wrestler?
What do you wish your child will learn from this sport?
Why is it important to you for your child to wrestle?
Can you watch your child’s matches?
When were you most proud of your wrestler?
Submissions can be sent to johnapassaro@icloud.com
http://www.johnapassarostore.com
November 5, 2019
My Dear, My Love
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My Deer, My Friends
Very rarely in life do you get to witness another person’s every action, every thought, every desire and come away feeling lucky to have been around them.
I have had the privilege of witnessing my wife, BettyJane, up close for the last thirty-plus years.
Under every scenario.
The good, the bad.
For richer, for poorer.
In sickness and in health.
She is truly a good person.
A great person.
The best person I have ever known on this earth.
I can truly say that.
She has handled every aspect of life with grace.
But at this point in our life, I’m worried about her though.
It pains me to see her suffer so.
Every day.
Constantly.
BettyJane’s every thought, her every action, her every prayer is to get the health of our daughter, Jessica, to improve.
She has been so engrossed for so long, with so little growth.
It has been a very long plateau.
Jessica has stabilized, which has required great effort, but she has not improved to the degree and within the timeframe of our hopes.
BettyJane is mentally and physically exhausted, nearing the end of her rope.
She needs something.
Something to keep her going.
Temporary happiness, a diversion to allow her to recharge and start again, instead of to give up.
At this moment, if I were given one wish in life, other than my daughter recovering, it would be for my wife to find happiness in her daily life, outside of my daughter’s health.
BettyJane is most worthy and deserves to be happy.
On this morning I pray that BettyJane finds happiness in something other than Jessie’s recovery.
I wish my eyes were camera’s and my heart was a DVR, so what I am currently witnessing could be forever saved to my soul.
It is one of those moments when life un-expectantly fills you with joy.
A moment, while it is happening, you know is the nectar of life.
Sometimes, dots are connected over time, and you know what made them connect, but rarely, if ever have I ever experienced dots connected simultaneously so soon after they are asked for in prayer.
As I walked past the sliding door which leads to my back porch, I see BettyJane with two deer.
There is a mother deer and a baby deer.
They are eating right out of BettyJane’s hand.
It has taken BettyJane weeks to build up their trust, putting watermelon skins out each night for them.
Each day she would put them closer and closer to the house, hoping they would one day become trusting enough to eat from her hand.
For the last few weeks, the deer have been in the first stage, alert but proceeding with caution.
Each day the deer would eat from the watermelon skins, but then they would get spooked at the slightest sound and dart off back into the woods as their trust was in BettyJane and not in the rest of the world.
Today, the deer broke free from the first stage and entered the second phase, Total Trust.
Today, there are no worldly sounds, and the deer made it all the way to BettyJane.
The mother deer is looking BettyJane right in the eye as her young is eating from BettyJane’s hand.
She trusts BettyJane.
BettyJane and the mother deer share a symbiotic relationship.
They understand each other.
Two mothers trying to keep her young alive.
BettyJane has finally trained the deer to trust the woods behind our house.
They trust our property is a safe place where they can roam, and be themselves, unguarded.
They trust they will always be cared for and be fed.
The deer know BettyJane is trying to help keep them alive.
Trust, love, survival.
Nature at its best.
It is an awesome sight to see.
BettyJane and the deer each helping the other in a way only nature and the Universe purely understands.
The sight is just awe-inspiring.
After her interaction with the deer, BettyJane came back inside and said with a beaming smile,
“Did you see my deer, my friends?”
Rarely, have I ever seen BettyJane happier than she is at this moment.
I silently say, “Thank you,” to the Universe.
My Dear, I’m Sorry
Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee
And I’ll forgive Thy great big one on me.
Robert Frost
Have you ever had the heartwrenching experience of a loved one being a little later in arriving at their destination than you expected?
At first, it is no big deal, their reason for not being where they should be could be a host of a million reasons why.
But with each passing minute, the tides change from a rational reason why they aren’t where they should be to a fearful sense that something is wrong, to a foreboding that you have lost them.
Irrationally, I was near the foreboding point when BettyJane recently took way too much time returning from walking the dog.
As BettyJane crashed through the front door, I initially felt so silly for allowing my emotions to escalate out of control so quickly,
Until she frantically screamed,
“I killed them.”
“I killed them.”
I couldn’t quite understand what she was saying between the gulps in her hysterical crying.
I feverishly tried to comprehend the meaning of her confession.
“What do you mean, you killed them?” I question.
“They are dead. They are dead because of me.”
“Who’s dead?” I asked. I am starting to get really worried.
“Somebody shot them.
I was walking the dog, and I saw hunters carrying my deer out of the woods on their shoulders.
They even killed the baby.”
“They are dead because of me.
I got them killed.
I taught them to trust.
I made them put their guards down.
I’m done.”
I attempted to comfort BettyJane in this cruel course of events,
“You taught them to love. To trust. To be happy.
Nothing bad can be blamed on you for that.
You never stop loving regardless of consequence.
Pain is the way the Universe says that you are getting close.
Something is trying to derail us, to get us to quit.
Don’t let it.”
Later on when I am alone, I not so silently curse the Universe on how it can be so cruel at times.
Oh, Dear, No
That evening I am watching an episode of Chicago Med.
In the scene, a doctor is attempting to apologize to the parents of a newborn baby who recently died.
A few hours before that doctor had talked the parents out of a do not resuscitate order for their newborn child, ultimately creating a small window of time where the parents were able to hold their sick child before he passed away.
The doctor remorsefully says to the parents,
“I’m sorry I did what I did. I’m sorry I gave you hope.”
The doctor braced for the parent’s response. He was shocked when they said to him,
“I just want to thank you. We got to hold our child and hopefully he got to feel our love, even if it was only for a few seconds.”
When the parents exit the room, another doctor who witnessed the heartwrenching scene and who was against talking the parents out of pulling their do not resuscitate order says to the doctor who was for doing so and asks,
“What are you going to do next time?”
And the doctor who created the window of time so the parents could hold their dying child responds, “I’d do the same thing.”
My Dear, My Love
I know BettyJane will survive this winter.
I know spring will come again.
And new deer will arrive in our backwoods, mother, and baby looking for food, love, and trust.
And I know My Dear, My Love will do the same thing.
Love, Trust, Survival.
Regardless of consequence.
To always love, no matter the pain, that is to live life at its ultimate.
Live Brave.
Love Always.
Chapter Excerpt from soon to be released “Strange Angels”
PRE-ORDER NOW
October 24, 2019
Take the Hit
“Take the Hit”
Is a chapter excerpt from
“6 Minutes Wrestling with Life”
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December 28th, 2009
Every once in awhile I just need to be anonymous, invisible to everyone so I can recharge my batteries to be able to fight my daily battle.
The Superhero power I wish for the most is not from Superman or Spiderman, it is from Bert from “Soap,” the ability to cross my forearms in front of my chest and snap my fingers and become invisible.
Just for a few minutes.
To be able to create a protective shield around me so nothing can get in, just for enough time to regain my composure and continue fighting.
Sometimes I do this by sitting by myself in my car before I head back into my house after going to the market, or sometimes I stroll outside and wander for a few minutes.
A few minutes of solitude does wonders for me.
Today, something told me, as I was driving home from the hospital, that I should become invisible at Boston Market.
It didn’t make any sense, as dinner was waiting for me at home.
So I enter the restaurant, I find an out of the way table in the corner, and I become invisible.
Or so I thought.
As I was sitting down biting into my Chicken Carver Sandwich, I see “Adult Large’s” dad walk through the vestibule, look around the store and immediately make a beeline towards me.
I guess my superpowers of invisibility are not working today.
I fondly call him, “Adult Large’s” dad because six years ago when I was helping to run the Little League in my town, and we were placing orders for our Major League Replica uniforms at 2 a.m., we came across an order for an “L” jersey for a player. The order did not specify if it should be a youth large or an adult large. Being there was no phone number on the application, and the order had to be in by the first thing in the morning, we needed to make an executive decision.
We ordered an adult large custom Major League replica jersey.
For the smallest kid in the league.
The jersey acted like a parachute as he ran the bases.
Hence the name “Adult-Large.”
It has been six years since I have seen “Adult-Larges’” dad.
He is now standing over my shoulder and asks, “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Please do,” I respond.
I find it weird that he does not order any food.
He starts out by saying “You know I have never been in a Boston Market in my entire life.” He pauses, and adds, “I was driving around aimlessly and something told me to stop. I didn’t know why until I got to the door and I saw you.”
He now has my attention.
“I am really sorry to hear about Jess,” he says with genuine sadness.
“Thank you,” I say.
“How is little Johnny?” I inquire.
“He is killing my family and me. He has lost his way,” he bluntly shares with me.
“That is the reason I was driving around tonight. I just had to leave the house. It’s bad. Really bad.”
He adds, “I have done everything I could do. I’m done.
Do you know he just came at me with a bat?”
I can see he is at the end of his rope, and this is dominating his life.
He confesses, “I am walking away from him. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Take the hit,” I say.
“What do you mean, ‘take the hit?’”
“I mean, when he comes after you with the bat, ‘take the hit,’, I say with passion.
“Are you crazy? That would hurt so much. He would break my ribs,” he spurts out.
“You are right. It is going to hurt like hell. But your ribs will eventually heal.
If you walk away, I guarantee it will hurt much more than broken ribs, and that hurt will never go away.”
I pause, and I say it again, “Take the hit.”
“Take the hit,” he slowly says under his breath.
“Whose team are you on?” I ask him.
“I don’t follow you. What do you mean whose team am I on?” he asks.
“I mean, you want your son back, and there are forces in this world that want to take him from you. There is a battle going on. Sides have been taken, John’s team is his family, and the other team is everything you don’t want for your son. Walking away is the exact thing the other side wants. Instead of walking away, you need to fight.”
I add, “Treat a man as he is, and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he could be and he will become what he should be.” I have no idea where that just came from but it just effortlessly flowed out of my mouth. It must be the hundreds of hours of reading I have been doing at Jess’s bedside.
“I am telling you, and I need you to listen. Don’t you ever walk away from your son, no matter what he has done. You need to fight to get him back. You are on his team, not theirs.”
Before my eyes, I could see what once was a smoldering fire, ready to be put out, turn back into a flame. Adult Large’s dad’s eyes and heart are alive again, saved from the circumstances of life.
“Adult Large’s” dad and I wind up talking until there are no other patrons in the restaurant.
As we eventually get up to leave, we both acknowledge that we were meant to find each other on this particular night.
I cross my arms over my chest and snap my fingers.
It is time to go home and eat dinner.
“Take the Hit”
Is a chapter excerpt from
“6 Minutes Wrestling with Life”
October 23, 2019
Your Confidence Will be in Direct Proportion To Your Preparedness
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Every position is my best position.
Kyle Dake
Confidence is best defined as a belief in oneself.
Having a belief in oneself is attributed to knowing.
Knowing comes from being prepared.
Preparation comes from putting in the work,
making the sacrifices and experiencing the pain.
Confidence is vital to achievement.
Confidence is binary.
There is no middle ground.
Either you have it, or you don’t.
There is no such thing as being “a little bit confident.”
Confidence cannot be faked.
It can only be earned.
Confidence is earned through hard work, extreme sacrifice, and enduring physical pain.
Then, and only then will you be prepared,
and then and only then will you have confidence.
Every test you face where you do the work, make the sacrifice, and absorb the pain of struggle, is recorded by your mind.
The results are stored deep in your subconscious.
When your confidence is called upon, immediately your subconscious mind will become the judge and jury and will determine if you deserve its delivery based on those prior test results.
There is an old saying that you can’t fool yourself.
When earned, confidence will be at your beckoning call.
When you convince your subconscious mind that you have properly prepared, sacrificed, and have handled the pain, confidence will automatically appear.
And you will be rewarded by its presence.
Your Confidence Will be in Direct Proportion To Your Preparedness
Is a chapter excerpt from
October 19, 2019
Behind the Bookcase
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Writing in a diary Is a really strange experience for someone like me.
Not only because I’ve never written anything before,
But also because It seems to me that later on
Neither I nor anyone else
Will be interested in the musings
Of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.
Anne Frank
1941
Never lose sight of the fact of how much each of our lives impacts one another.
How our private struggles and injustices, if we allow them, can and should be used for the betterment of humanity.
Imagine, if Anne Frank’s struggle stayed behind her bookcase; and was never revealed to the world.
Imagine if Anne’s father, Otto, never published his daughter’s secret diary; how different the world would be.
It is incredible to come to understand, a seemingly ordinary teenage girl, by sharing her struggle, changed the world.
We all can do the same.
In our own way.
It is human instinct to put one’s best foot forward, to put up and hide behind one’s bookcase.
To face one’s struggles privately.
But to do so limits the benefit of the struggle and stifles the growth of the rest of the human race.
To reveal the struggle behind one’s bookcase takes an extraordinary amount of courage.
The world needs to see the struggle.
I believe by allowing others to see the struggle will genuinely benefit the world.
We also need to look behind bookcases in our worlds.
Everyone is struggling with something no one knows about.
Recognize when a bookcase is hiding a struggle or injustice in someone’s life.
Then find the secret entrance and get to them.
Remember, one never knows if the struggle is for their journey or someone else’s.
We can all be a Miep Gies (the lady who risked her safety to help the Frank family) to someone in our lives.
Otto Frank once said, “I hope Anne’s book will have an effect on the rest of your life so that insofar as it is possible in your own circumstances, you will work for unity and peace.”
78 years later and Anne Frank’s book is one of the most-read books in the world.
In Anne Frank’s courage to share her struggle,
the world benefited by being exposed to the most valuable asset in the universe, the invincibility of the human spirit.
A seemingly common thirteen-year-old-schoolgirl did her part to change the world.
Now, let us each do ours.
Live brave.
Share your struggle.
One never knows whether the struggle is for their journey, or for someone else’s.
Magically, it may be for both.
October 18, 2019
Never Bet Against an Underdog Who Has The Heart of a Champion
If there is a Goliath infront of you,
That means there’s a David inside of you.
It happens at every weigh-in at every wrestling event, by almost every wrestler in the country.
The “sizing up your
opponent,” as he steps on the scale ritual.
Then, predetermining
the outcome of the match based on the recent visual of your opponents’ muscularity
and physique.
There is no doubt
that strength is a vital ingredient to success in wrestling.
But strength can be
measured in different ways.
Strength does not only
come from one’s physique or muscles; it can also come from one’s heart.
And one’s heart
cannot be seen by stepping on the scale at a weigh-in.
It is only visible during
battle.
What most people neglect
to factor in when viewing a physical specimen stepping on the scale is that to
partake in a battle requires effort.
And effort makes
your body release lactic acid.
And lactic acid is the kryptonite to muscles; it makes them slow and lethargic.
What those same
people also neglected to factor into the equation is that winning a battle
requires having a purpose.
And when one has a purpose, “heart” is released during battle which makes even the smallest muscles and the tiniest physique more powerful than one could imagine or foresee.
If you want a truer indication of your opponent, don’t size up his biceps when he is on the scale, observe his heart as it responds to battle.
Chapter from
JohnA Passaro
October 17, 2019
Life On Earth
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Sometimes our light goes out
But is blown again into instant flame
By an encounter with another human being.
Albert Schweitzer
I recently watched a television program where an undercover cop got arrested with the gang he was trying to infiltrate.
The gang didn’t know he was undercover.
During the arrest the forces at be made it seem like he was part of them.
Which made me think.
Maybe, there are people on this earth who are undercover.
People who have been sent by a higher power.
People whose lives intertwine with ours for a brief time.
People who are sent into our lives at the exact moment we need them.
They provide us with a spark or dust off a belief system we once had or encourage us when we need it the most.
When they accomplish what they were sent to do, they move on.
Maybe, the forces that have it all choreographed to look real and seem natural.
I believe the Universe uses us all in this way.
By intertwining each of our lives.
I believe we are all that undercover cop.
Good amongst evil, risking our lives for the betterment of mankind.
At times I believe we are also the gang, not knowing someone is undercover amongst us.
I have learned, at times I am part of my own journey and at other times I am here to help others on their journey.
The only part I haven’t figured out yet, is, which is happening, when.
