Art Series: Life’s a Zoo

  • If There Was a Problem

    “If There Was A Problem” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    What if your biggest problem isn’t a problem at all?

    I love watching otters do meal prep.

    They float on their back as they work to open an oyster for lunch. They put off a nonchalant vibe, like they’re nursing a margarita on an inflatable raft in a pool at an all-inclusive resort. They have the cool confidence of Vanilla Ice, who famously rapped, “If there was a problem yo, I’ll solve it.”

    The situation is actually a matter of life and death because if they don’t eat, they don’t last long. But of course, they are well-suited for the task, so their body language gives away the fact that there’s not much drama involved.

    I wonder how our lives would look if we went about our challenges the same way, looking at our problems more like…brain teasers. What if we saw them as fun puzzles to solve, like oysters that just take a bit of patience and persistence to crack open? Too often, we (and when I say we, I mean me, but perhaps you can relate), run around in a frenzied state, lamenting the sorry state of our affairs and worried that we’ve already eaten our last meal. 

    I, for one, have perfected the craft of rejoicing over all the times God has blessed me and provided for me, while feeling absolutely certain that He’s forgotten about me this time. Sure, there was that time I never thought I’d be brave enough to make it through freshman year. That time we had less than $100 in the checking account. That time, the mechanic left a rag in the engine that prevented us from decelerating on the highway. And the time we came home from vacation to find bullet holes and glass in our living room. 

    Sure, those all worked out ok. But this time…?

    Sometimes I look back at old journal entries and come across my account of a five-alarm dumpster fire written as if it were the sign of the pending apocalypse. With a few years of hindsight, I often have to work to even remember the event.

    Like just today, I stumbled across an old photo of a car that had been in an accident. The hood was crumpled like a Shar-Pei, and it reminded me a lot of a silver Grand Am we used to have. Upon further inspection, it was our Grand Am, and memories flooded back of a fender-bender that happened after a family outing at the zoo. That, too, seemed like a disaster at the time. It was apparently so disruptive to my life that I’d forgotten all about it until I saw the photo in my photostream.

    We encountered a problem, we solved it, and life went on.

    Most problems in life are like that.

    I’m not suggesting we ignore our problems or pretend they don’t exist, but merely to reframe them as cosmic crossword puzzles to decipher, a Rubik’s cube to solve.

    It’s realizing that problems are a part of life, and the only people without them are taking up residence in those extended stay resorts called cemeteries.
    It’s about acknowledging that most problems are not as catastrophic as they feel.
    It’s about maintaining an attitude that problems are solvable while refusing to underestimate our ability to solve them.

    And it’s about accepting that even if you don’t solve the problem right away, even if you’re still trying to crack that baby open, that’s ok, too.

    What if we adopted the frame that these problems are not sent to destroy us, but to keep our minds sharp? Novelist and poet Wendell Berry reminds us that, “The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.”

    Perhaps the next time we encounter a problem – especially the kind that leaves us hysterical – we can try a little harder to adopt the posture of an otter with an oyster. Yes, it’s important. But it’s figureoutable and nothing to panic over. Maybe the calm would give us the clarity we need. Maybe an air of nonchalance would invite the playful spirit we need to crack the case.

    We are more creative than we give ourselves credit for. We are stronger than we feel. And we are loved by a God who is stronger still.

    Like the otter, we are well-suited to overcome any problem we encounter.

    Yo, we got this.

  • Teenage Mutant Ninja Sea Turtle

    “Teenage Mutant Ninja Sea Turtle” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 40. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    If the movies taught me anything, it’s that superheroes wear spandex.

    We’ve been led to believe that superheroes are special. They come from another planet. They are blessed with superhuman abilities. They are super smart, or rich, or got involved in some sort of dangerous science experiment that turned out ok. They typically wear cool outfits while traveling in cool vehicles and wielding cool accessories.
     
    Also, their muscles have muscles.

    This painting is an homage to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, who, when they first emerged from the sewer in 1984, clearly challenged the notion of what heroes are supposed to look like.

    The truth is, real heroes hardly ever look like they do in the movies.

    Oftentimes, they look a lot like you.

    The turtle in this painting has emerged from its comfortable ocean surroundings and is wearing a mask that symbolizes two important concepts.

    The first is that it’s not all about us.

    Superheroes often hide their identity, giving them a sense of anonymity. Real heroes don’t do it for the glory, and they don’t demand credit. They serve a cause greater than themselves, and their chief motivation is doing the right thing and helping others. The mask can serve as a physical reminder that it’s not about us.

    Secondly, the mask gives us permission to act “as if.”

    Part of the reason children and adults alike enjoy wearing Halloween costumes is that it gives us permission to be someone different. The mask can be an opportunity to wander outside our comfort zone and try on a new way of acting, to be someone better than perhaps we believe we are. I like the advice from Joe Rogan, who suggested that if you’re unsure about what action to take in a particular situation, ask what the hero in the movie would do. In the beginning, it might feel a lot like acting,  but that way of acting might just stick, and before you know it, you’ll end up doing something that once seemed superheroic.

    Ultimately, being a hero is not about how you look, what you wear, or where you come from. 

    This painting challenges the notion of what superheroes look like and reminds us that in order to become one, we might need to leave our comfort zone in order to take action.

    It might be serving a cause greater than ourselves, standing up for what’s right, regardless of how unpopular it makes us.

    It might be standing up to the bully at work (or the one in our head).

    It’s often as simple as staying under the radar and just helping someone who needs help, whether it’s a child, an elderly neighbor, or a random guy struggling to load something into his car.

    We are all called to be heroes.

    This calling may require sacrifice, a bit of discomfort, and a new way of acting, but it doesn’t require spandex.

  • All Creation Rejoices

    “All Creation Rejoices” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Have you ever had one of those days when you’re angry at everything and nothing in particular? I had one recently. I went for a walk in an attempt to burn off my anxiety. Two laps around a spacious field of wildflowers near my home released some endorphins, but didn’t make a dent in my foul mood.

    I pulled out my earbuds and fired up a playlist on my phone populated with praise music. My soul began to lift.

    Then I came upon an older man driving a golf cart along the path, with a woman of a similar age as his passenger. She appeared to have some cognitive challenges as she seemed pretty unresponsive. I guessed that they were husband and wife. Perhaps he had been visiting her in the nearby mental health center and decided to take her for a ride on what was a beautiful day.

    They were together, but not really. At least not in the same way my wife and I are when we go for a ride together, talking all the way. In that couple, silently traversing fields of wildflowers under the late-summer sun, not only did I see true love, deep loyalty, and the kind of frail but breathtaking beauty that only arises from brokenness, I also saw a million reasons to be thankful.

    I turned off the path and headed back home, returning a happier, more hopeful person than the one who left.

    Anxiety is the dominant emotion of our time. It’s a constant companion as we slog through our days, scan the headlines, and scroll through our social media feeds.

    Fortunately, there is a cure and it doesn’t cost a dime.

    The antidote to anxiety is gratitude.

    If you are feeling anxious, make a list of ten things you are grateful for. It’s impossible to do this and not feel better. I double dog dare you to make a list of 100 and tell me your mood is not completely transformed.

    Anxiety is anticipating the bad in what may never happen. 

    Gratitude is acknowledging the good in what already has.

    Why does gratitude make us feel better? This painting explores this phenomenon while addressing another. The photo I used as reference was taken during my family’s whale watching tour while in Mexico. I’m still amazed that we had the opportunity to see a humpback whale breach. I’m also amazed that mankind still doesn’t know exactly why whales exhibit this behavior. Scientists have theories about why they breach: to communicate, attract other whales, or warn off other males. But no one knows exactly why – yet.

    Well, how about this as a theory: what if they’re literally jumping for joy?

    Maybe all of creation has its own unique way of practicing gratitude and praising God. Maybe that’s why whales breach, fireflies glow, and swallows whoosh and whirl playfully in the air.

    Maybe we were made for it.

    And maybe that’s why we feel out of balance when we aren’t doing it and feel better when we do. 

    It is just a theory, but a bestselling book proclaims, “Let the sea resound, and all that is in it…Let all creation rejoice before the Lord.”

    It appears highly ironic to suggest turning to gratitude in times of anxiety, grief, or pain. After all, we usually think of “jumping for joy” when we feel good over something remarkable that’s happened.

    The truth is, something remarkable is always happening. 

    Praise aligns us with our Creator, giving us the new eyes we need to see it.

    What are you grateful for today?

  • Refuge

    “Refuge” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The first house I ever lived in was across the street from a fire station.

    Living in a small town meant it was quiet most nights, but you only need to hear those loud sirens wail one time when you’re three years old to experience real terror. And that is why, every single night, my bedtime routine included this statement: “Dad, I’m afraid of the thunder and lightning and the fire trucks.”

    Clearly, loud noise was my weak spot. (Had we lived next to a college football stadium, I suspect marching bands and touchdown celebrations may have made this list.)

    And every single night, my father would simply reply, “That’s ok, Jason. They’re all in bed now.”

    That’s all I needed to hear. It was the perfect recipe for a good night’s sleep.
    For a child, the world is noisy and overwhelming. It feels too big for us. Fortunately, our parents have our backs. They reassure us and help us feel safe. It is comforting to let them take care of the scary stuff. After all, they’ve been around the block. They are big and strong and know everything.

    As we get older, our courage grows. We bravely venture out on our own, exploring the world, and trying new things. We gain confidence and slowly become more self-sufficient. But when life gets too scary or we skin our knee, we scurry back to them, to a place we know is safe.

    Eventually, you reach the point where your parents are no longer around. Or maybe you catch up with them and are surprised to find they really don’t know everything. What then?

    I don’t know about you, but there are still times when the world feels too big for me. The noise, the pain, the problems…it’s all too much. 

    I’m looking at you, 2020, the flaming dumpster fire only its mother could love. We’ve experienced a pandemic, lockdowns, economic downturns, unrest in our cities, and natural disasters, all in a contentious election year. It’s been overwhelming, constantly trying to make sense of it all and figure out what to do next for my family and business. The moments I feel most overmatched are those when I forget I’m not alone.

    What has saved me this year is my morning routine. Each day, I sit in the pre-dawn light on my rocking chair with a fresh cup of coffee and a pine-scented candle nearby. I read the Bible. I journal. I pray. Sometimes I listen to music or read from a devotional. Sometimes I just sit there, in the quiet, before the kids are up and the world turns on for the day. It is bliss. I never thought I’d ever actually enjoy getting up this early, but now I wouldn’t miss it. It’s like I’m a baby polar bear seeking warm refuge in the shadow of his protective parent.

    Many times, I have confided in my Heavenly Father, “Lord, I am afraid of the virus and the violence and the division.”

    And He responds, over and over again in His Word and in the still small voice in my heart, “It’s ok, Jason. I’ve got this.”

    Our bodies may grow old, but our souls remain young. We are always God’s kids, and we are always yearning for love and safety. Our smallness is a gift because it leads us back to Him, and when we are weak, He is strong.

    My morning quiet times give me just enough to get through the day. I don’t often experience any big revelations. Mostly just reminders.

    When I think, “How am I supposed to navigate all this turmoil?” I am reminded, I don’t have to.

    I am reminded that we were not meant to do this life alone. 

    I am reminded that I can be brave because I have backup.

    Maybe you could use a reminder.

    Maybe you need an invitation.

    If you are navigating 2020 like a boss, by all means, keep on keeping on. But if you feel overwhelmed and out of your league, might I suggest seeking refuge in the shelter of your Heavenly Father, who loves you very much and has got your back.

    When the alarms sound and the sirens wail and the world feels too big for you, remember that you have a mighty champion on your side.

  • Pretty Darn Great

    “Pretty Darn Great” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 60. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This shark is awesome. You can tell how awesome he is by his gold teeth. Obviously, the male sharks want to be him, and all the ladies want to be with him. The fact that he is a success is a foregone conclusion to everyone.

    The joke is on the shark, though, because these teeth are not long for this world. You see, sharks continually shed their teeth (some shedding approximately 35,000 teeth in a lifetime!) That’s a lot of lost bling. What a shame!

    The tragedy is that gold grill or no, he already was great. He just didn’t believe it.

    I don’t know about you, but I make this mistake all the time.

    I chase after shiny objects that don’t last to prove my worth, even though deep down I don’t always feel so worthy.

    When I was in seventh grade, I would have given anything for a pair of Air Jordans. I didn’t feel cool, but I was certain these shoes would make up for it. I never got them. It’s just as well, I guess, because they wouldn’t have fit me a year later. 

    Back at the turn of the century, Apple came out with the iBook. The lime green one was awesome. I printed out a picture and put it on my vision board, imagining that my possession of it would make me hip and trendy. Never got it. Of course, if I still had it today, it would be little more than a decorative doorstep. 

    I have dreams of owning a Porsche 911 convertible someday. I think they are beautiful cars, and I love driving convertibles (my dad used to have one). But can I be honest? Sometimes I wonder if the real reason I want it is to have something to show everyone how great and successful I am.

    Now, my faith teaches me that I am wonderfully made in the image of my creator. Frankly, it’s a little hard to believe, most days. After all, I wear bifocals now. My hair is thinning. I eat lots of gluten. 

    Interestingly, my perspective changes when I think about my own kids. Are they perfect? Hells no. (They take after their old man after all). But they are great. It’s not hard at all for me to see their amazing qualities. And the kind of shoes they’re wearing has nothing to do with it. 

    Why is it so easy to see the positive traits of others and so hard to see them in ourselves?

    There are people out there who are a little too big for their britches. But even in those cases, once you collect a certain amount of wisdom, you realize that all the bombast and overconfidence are merely masking their own unworthiness.

    Indeed, most of us are overwhelmed by our flaws and sell ourselves short. We believe the TV and magazine ads that tell us we need to fix this, tuck that, and acquire the new gizmo to feel complete. I don’t know if you can relate, but I often feel suffocated by thoughts that I’m not enough. Not smart enough. Not talented enough. Not brave enough. Each one is like a weed, crowding out the truth. 

    The good thing about this feeling of “not enough” is that it helps us make room for God. His power is made perfect in our weakness. He picks up the slack and nullifies our deficiencies. We are truly in danger when we think we can do this thing called life alone. 

    You and I, we are already great. And not in some lame, everybody-gets-a-participation-trophy way.

    First, some perspective. Do you know the odds of you even being here? Dr. Ali Binazir crunched the numbers, and when you factor in the probability of your dad meeting your mom…

    …and that they stayed together long enough to have kids…

    …and the fact that one of the 100,000 eggs your mom produces in her lifetime…

    …met the one of the 4 trillion sperm your dad made during the years you could have been born…

    …there is a 1 in 400,000,000,000,000,000 (1 in 400 quadrillion chance) of you being alive.

    The chance of you being attacked and killed by a shark is about 1 in 4,000,000.

    Statistically speaking, you are a miracle. Having beaten odds like that suggests there is a reason you are here. And indeed, there is. You have something to offer that the world needs.

    You see, the real reason for your greatness is that you were purposefully and wonderfully made by a loving God. Within you – amidst any so-called flaws you dwell on – is a spark of something divine. That, my friend, makes you priceless.

    “When I was a child my parents loved me not because I was good but because I was Madeleine, their child. I loved them, and I wanted to please them, but their love of me did not have to be earned. Neither does the love of God. We are loved because we are his children, because we are.”

    – Madeleine L’Engle

    You don’t have to keep trying to prove yourself. You can just be. 

    You may not be perfect, but you are already great.

    Gold teeth or no.

  • Own This Moment

    “Own This Moment” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The great philosopher Marshall Mathers, also known as Eminem, once said,

    Look…if you had one shot
    Or one opportunity
    To seize everything you ever wanted
    In one moment
    Would you capture it
    Or just let it slip?

    You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
    You own it, you better never let it go
    You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
    This opportunity comes once in a lifetime

    – “Lose Yourself” by Eminem


    It may seem weird to think of this moment in which we find ourselves as the opportunity of a lifetime. After all, none of us asked for it, and all of us wish we could get back to some semblance of normal sooner rather than later.

    Yet here we are, amidst the moment we’ve been waiting for, which has arrived dressed in unremarkable clothing.

    This is a one-of-a-kind opportunity to pivot our organizations to serve people in new and better ways. To improve ourselves by taking a class or learning a valuable skill. To lay the groundwork for a brand new business that will prevent us from having to go back to the old job that wasn’t lighting us up. To strengthen the relationships we have neglected. 

    Perhaps more than anything, this is an occasion to take a long, hard look at our lives and determine if the direction we were heading is really the direction we want to be going. 

    Don’t be fooled by the dire straits trumpeted by the media all day long. Things are not always what they appear to be. Unprecedented times are rich with unprecedented opportunities.

    If you’ve ever felt like a lowly fish, always struggling upstream, never making much progress, this is your chance to be the bear.

    This crisis is an audition for the next generation of leaders.

    You may already be in a leadership position.

    How is your audition going?

    You might believe you don’t have it in you to be a leader. If so, think again. Being elected to a public office or running a big company is not a prerequisite. You might be called to be the leader in your family right now, bringing a sense of calm or comfort, hope or joy. Perhaps you are called to be a leader in your neighborhood or apartment complex, or of the pared-down staff at work.

    We all experience fear, but cowering to it? That’s a choice. Owning the moment with courage and confidence is also a choice. Leaders are people who make hard choices and do the right thing.

    This is not about being somehow superhuman. It’s not about never feeling afraid, or exhausted, or overwhelmed. Feeling any of those feels right now doesn’t disqualify you from leadership. When I experience those emotions, I remember I am human and try to be kind to myself. My shortcomings are not proof that I suck; they are signs that I need to go back to my source of strength. For me, that comes from my morning time spent with a cup of coffee, my Bible, and my Heavenly Father. When my spiritual battery runs low, I know I need time away to recharge, in quiet, with Him. There, He reminds me of his great promises, and that I am not called to do His job, merely mine. Each new day, I am reminded, yet again, that dependency on Him is not a weakness; it is the goal.

    This painting is a call to own THIS moment. Not the next hundred. Leave tomorrow for tomorrow and don’t worry incessantly about the future.

    This crisis, this opportunity – this life – is astoundingly temporary.

    You are only guaranteed this moment.

    Will you own it…or just let it slip?

  • Don’t Stop Believin’

    “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Jason Kotecki. 24 x 30. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    My family went to Mexico to see whales. 

    That’s not the only reason we went to Cabo, but then again, the whales weren’t in Mexico because they were hoping to be seen.

    The tour company guaranteed we’d see them or our next ride was free, but we were told that we had a one in five shot of actually seeing one breach. It was recommended that we improve our odds by booking several excursions. Our itinerary and budget forced us to take our chances. 

    As we skipped across the waves on our small vessel, my little family prayed to St. Francis, the patron saint of animals, and we invoked St. Anthony with the words, “Tony, Tony, look around, there is something to be found.” I had faith that our little excursion was in the right twentieth percentile.

    Maybe our prayers were answered, maybe it just turned out to be our lucky day, but we saw this guy (or gal, I forgot to check) do this several times in front of us. I used this photo that our guide took with his awesome camera as a reference for this painting.

    Those fleeting moments represented a tiny fraction of our trip, but they were definitely the highlight. 

    The biggest chunk of our time on that vacation was spent in and around the pool. My kids could have spent the rest of their lives there if we’d let them. 
    With the exception of Kim and me, the children were the only humans at the pool not collecting Social Security. They were in their own little world, lost in their imagination, playing, splashing, and floating to their heart’s content. Meanwhile, our older neighbors stayed busy doing their thing, oblivious to the world of fantasy happening right in front of them.

    I was sad for them because they were missing out. They were nonplussed, and in some cases seemed a little annoyed by the joyful noises bubbling forth from the pool.

    Mind you, I couldn’t see everything that clearly – Adultitis has dimmed my imagination more than I’d care to admit – but I could see well enough to know that magic was happening in that pool. I witnessed an adventure, no doubt wrought with equal parts excitement and peril, and I smiled as I wondered how magnificent it must be. 

    I know it seems unlikely, and I couldn’t tell for sure, but I could have sworn that a giant humpback whale may have been leaping right out of that very pool. 

    Don’t ask the grumps around the pool to fact-check my story. I’m certain they missed the whole thing. Too riddled with Adultitis, no doubt. 

    That the whole scene appeared to be invisible made it no less real.

    Why do we stop believing in fantastic things? Why do our wide eyes grow so dim with age? Shouldn’t they be even wider, for an old person has been privileged to observe an avalanche of wonders? Living long brings plenty of disappointment, to be sure, but it also brings a smorgasbord of sunrises and sunsets, and more time to bear witness to impossible things, like childbirth and springtime, and the way green leaves turn bright red every single year.

    As I said, Adultitis has its grip on me, too. But I’m still fighting. I plan to fight it all the days of my life. 

    I hope I never stop believing. 

  • Angry Owl

    “Angry Owl” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is in Private Collection 🖼️ Shop this art!

    I’ve always thought owls looked angry. That perception inspired this painting, as I decided to give him something to be angry about.

    But now I wonder if maybe they’re just focused.

    After all, perpetually being on the lookout for your next meal kind of requires your undivided attention.

    Likewise, in order to achieve a dream or accomplish anything worthwhile, you have to be incredibly focused. You can’t let distractions knock you off your game. One of the biggest reasons people are not as successful as they’d like to be – regardless of their definition of success – is due to a lack of focus. They keep chasing shiny objects and fail to follow through on any one initiative.

    As Steven Pressfield writes brilliantly in his book The War of Art, “The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.”

    Understanding this truth – and expecting it – is a great advantage for you, because then you won’t be surprised by how hard it becomes to find the time to write even one page of your next book. Or how easy it gets to find other people who are way more successful than you. Or how tantalizing that entire sleeve of Thin Mints suddenly appears on the first day of your new diet.

    During the first nine years of our business and marriage, Kim and I lived in an apartment. It was a two-bedroom place that seemed big when we started. We expected to live there two or three years, not nine. As time went on, the apartment felt like it was shrinking. We grew weary of the loud music at all hours of the night. The neighbors who smoked right outside our open windows. The occasional gun shots we heard from the gas station a block away. The time someone broke into our storage area in the basement and stole our Christmas decor, including a Santa pillow that was crocheted by my Grandma. The fact that our peers were financially further along than us, building homes and starting families. The debt we accumulated throwing spaghetti at the wall, trying to find a business model that was fueled by our talents AND paid the bills.

    It added up to a whole lot of suckage.

    And yet, it was all part of a test to see how badly we wanted it. 

    Giving up is easy. Staying focused is hard.

    You have to stay the course even when things aren’t going according to plan, when the haters are shooting their slings and arrows, or when an ice cream cone falls on your head. Most so-called “overnight successes” are anything but. There are miles and miles of unpaved, rocky roads behind them that we often don’t see.

    Achieving a dream is not quick and easy, like winning the lottery. It’s messy, difficult, and exhausting.

    Understand it. Accept it. Own it.

    If your dream is worth it, just keep going.

    Take it from the owl: Staying focused is wise – keep your eye on the prize!

  • Angry Eagle

    “Angry Eagle” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    How do we make sense of the hateful violence, terror, and chaos we observe all around us?

    Perhaps reflecting a bit upon fairy tales will help. 

    Star Wars and Harry Potter and The Lord of The Rings are the fairy tales of our age. They resonate with young and old alike, but why? 

    Simple.

    It’s because they are true.

    It might seem silly to claim stories of lightsabers and magic wands and Wookies and Hobbits as true. Those elements are what make them fairy tales, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true.

    What they say about friendship and sacrifice and hope is quite real. Fairy tales also remind us that there is such a thing as evil. They tell us, as G.K. Chesterton wrote, “These limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.”

    This is not a battle between Republicans and Democrats; it’s bigger than politics. Rather, we are in the midst of a spiritual war between good and evil. Our modern culture pushes to erase this notion, while regarding things like mystery and enchantment as charming superstition from a less sophisticated age.

    It often remains invisible, but every once in a while, the mask slips and evil shows itself. And every once in a while, we observe something unmistakably good that defies explanation.

    The state of world affairs makes no sense without this frame. Without it, we have little to cling to besides despair, and are forced to concoct outlandish conspiracy theories to explain the chaos we see all around us. Once you accept the premise that the battle we are embroiled in is a spiritual one, everything comes into focus. 

    The reason we resonate so deeply with fairy tales is that despite the fantastical elements, we inherently know they are true. 

    What’s also important to understand, as the more complex fairy tales often show us, is that human begins cannot be reduced to one-dimensional “good guys” and “bad guys.” In fact, the forces of evil profit when we become convinced that people different than us are the bad guys. A look back over the course of human history shows how many different ways this has played out.

    The truth is that there is light and darkness within each of us, and we are constantly pulled in both directions. 

    Our choices dictate our destiny. 

    Those choices do not exist in a vacuum. They affect the lives of others, for better or worse. 

    In the original Star Wars (Episode IV for my fellow nerds), Darth Vader is presented as the epitome of pure evil. But as the story plays out in subsequent movies, the truth is more complicated. We learn that Darth Vader is actually a human being named Anakin Skywalker. He began life as a poor boy, honest, brave, and filled with goodness. He grows into a powerful warrior, fighting on the light side. But over the course of his life, he experiences hardship, pain and grief. Through a series of choices, he slowly succumbs to fear, anger, and hatred, gradually drifting to the dark side, transforming into an agent of evil.

    The wise old Jedi master Yoda may have been a figment of George Lucas’ imagination, but his description of Anakin’s progression rings true: “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

    As Kim and I try to teach our kids: hurt people hurt people. 

    The way forward is not to keep hurting one another. 

    It’s ok to be angry. A righteous anger can instill in us the courage to rise up and fight the powers of darkness. But suffering awaits us if we allow it to feed our emotions of fear and hatred, pulling us deeper and deeper into the darkness.

    Eventually, even though most regarded him as more machine than man, Anakin Skywalker is redeemed by his own son, who refuses to relinquish the belief that there is still some good in him.

    So it is with us. No matter how far toward the darkness we have drifted, there is still good within us. We can still be redeemed.

    But the choosing is up to us. Every day we make choices that pull us closer to either the light or the darkness. And make no mistake, each of those choices comes with a cost. 

    Choosing to stand for the light can cost us our life. 

    Siding with the darkness will cost us our soul.

    We are in the midst of a great spiritual battle. A refusal to see it, like it, or believe it doesn’t make it not true. 

    But what can one person do? The fight is so big, the stakes are so high, and the challenge feels so insurmountable. I feel like I’m in a war with giants, with nothing but a cardboard sword. But then I remind myself that “there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.”

    I am emboldened by the words of St. John Henry Cardinal Newman, who said, “God knows me and calls me by my name. God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.”

    You and I, we each have a role to play in this war. Yours will look different than mine, but our particular gifts are the assets we are called to contribute. It’s not our job to win the war, but join the battle we must. 

    My aim, although I am not always successful, is to strive toward truth, beauty, and goodness in all my daily choices. To treat with charity and kindness those I disagree with. And to do my best to bring a small measure of light into this dark world. 

    These days, it’s easy to lose hope. It often seems like darkness is on the verge of extinguishing the light once and for all. 

    Still, I cling to the truth embedded in fairy tales like Star Wars, Harry Potter, and The Lord of the Rings.

    In the end, good wins. 

    Neil Gaiman paraphrased Chesterton when he wrote, “Fairy tales are more than true – not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.”

    May The Force be with us.

  • All-American

    “All-American” by Jason Kotecki. 40 x 40. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This bison is terrible at golf. But that’s okay because he’s playing a different game.

    In a fitting reflection of the diversity we enjoy in this county, the American Dream has splintered into a hundred different versions. I like to think of these options as games. Rather than tracking three-pointers, we might measure things like money, body weight, square footage, degrees, status, accolades, connections, sales, prestige, and fame. In the old version, the white picket fence served as the trophy to prove that you won.

    This is your life. You decide what game you want to play. But you can’t play and hope to win them all. If you’re not careful, you can get duped into playing a game you don’t even care about and end up making choices that distract you from the game you do.

    The cool thing is that once you identify the game that matters to you, you can let go of all the burdensome envy and guilt you feel when you compare yourself to people playing different games. I’ll admit it: I’m getting blown out in the games that are being played by some of my friends, family, and peers. You might be, too. But the game that matters to me? I’m leading the league.

    Two lessons here: Get really clear on what game you’re playing. And don’t beat yourself up for being in last place in the games you’re not.