Keyword: slow

  • True Believer

    “True Believer” by Jason Kotecki. 24 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available. 🟢 Shop this art!

    Dreams always take longer than we think.

    There may be such a thing as overnight successes, but if so, they don’t stay successful for very long.

    More often than not, so-called “overnight successes” are anything but.

    One time, Kim and I spent a couple of hundred dollars on a two-day craft show. That was a big chunk of change for us at the time — about two months’ worth of groceries. We were next to a booth where a guy was selling knockoff Garfield tchotchkes. Meanwhile, we moved a grand total of $7.92 worth of greeting cards. It was rough. Then we drowned our sorrows in sirloin steaks at Outback, which made our negative profit margin even worse.

    I have a lot of stories like that from the early days. Happy times.

    Over the years, I have often felt like the sloth in this painting. Very little progress to show for a heck of a lot of effort.

    But then I think of things like that craft show, and I’m impressed and even a little surprised by how far we’ve come. There is a great sense of satisfaction in what we’ve built and the things we’ve accomplished, regardless of how much distance there is left to cover.

    Anything worth building takes time.

    More time than you think it should.

    Like way more.

    We need to hear that reminder often, because it goes for everything from dream businesses and amazing relationships to paying off Bank of America and mastering the clarinet. Thanks to the proliferation of microwave ovens and high-speed internet, progress always seems to be taking longer than it should. Then the media peddles their stories of overnight success. They catapulted to fame and fortune in one fell swoop; why can’t you?

    When the early buzz of enthusiasm wanes, discouragement is quick to settle in. It is during those seasons that we need to look for and listen to our true believers.

    I’ve been fortunate to have quite a few in my life.

    My Grandma K. made me feel like I was special, just as I was.

    My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Smith, encouraged me to take my artistic talent seriously.

    My Little League coach, Mr. Dawson, helped me believe that I was a winner.

    My high school art teacher, Mrs. Garrett, made me believe I had the talent to do this for a living.

    When I was an uncertain teenager, Deacon Vince saw me as a grown-up with valuable contributions to make.

    When Kim and I got married and launched our business, we were graced with a few true believers who saw the vision, including our parents and our best friends, Sue and Jenna. Theirs were not just empty words of encouragement. They responded with action by offering their time, money, and prayers. This signaled the proof of their belief.

    The certainty from true believers is invaluable. There will come a time when you lose faith in the vision, and you will need them to remind you that it’s real.

    Mounting failures and things taking longer than you expected take a toll. That vision, which once seemed so clear, begins to fade. You wonder if all the naysayers were right. After all, so many of them have way more experience than you, and the evidence seems to be piling up in their favor. Maybe I AM delusional? Maybe I was mistaken? Maybe the signals got crossed and I accidentally co-opted a dream that was not meant for me…

    I entertained all these thoughts at various times. It was tempting to give up.

    But then I remembered my parents. And Kim’s parents. And Sue and Jenna. I remembered that nobody pours money or time into a lost cause. Their sacrifice was tangible proof of their belief in us. It helped assure me that no, this is not a mirage. It’s real. They see it.

    Their belief bolstered my own.

    We need cheerleaders to succeed. They give us the boost we need when our dream seems late in coming.

    There are a few reasons dreams take longer than we think they should.

    One is partly for us to prove how much we want it.

    But it’s also because the most important part of a dream is who we become in the process of chasing it. That’s the real reward.

    When success doesn’t materialize as quickly as you thought it would and you’re discouraged by your dream taking too long, don’t despair. Heed the true believer cheering you on.

    Take it from the sloth. Achieving anything worthwhile is a marathon, not a sprint.

  • Kintsugi Tortoise

    “Kintsugi Tortoise” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 30. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD. 🔴 Shop this art!

    All dreamers start out delusional.

    But perhaps that’s an essential ingredient.

    The feeling that their idea is “genius” and the perception of their inevitability of success provide the enthusiasm and energy to get started. After all, no one found the fuel to begin chasing a dream by focusing on all the reasons it could never work.

    The critical moment is how the dreamer responds when he or she first encounters adversity.

    Or as philosopher Mike Tyson put it, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

    If a dream is big enough and you pursue it long enough, it will break you.

    Your confidence will be shattered. Doubt will creep in. Hope will be lost.

    Then what?

    I’m sad to say that’s often where it ends. The dream dissolves into an emaciated wish, a thin, pale shadow of its former glorious self.

    For twenty-five years, Kim and I dreamed of having a lake home. We talked about it on our first date. We spent hundreds and hundreds of hours talking about it, trying to figure out the most efficient way to make it happen while still doing the work we love and feel called to. We tried on dozens of scenarios in our minds, calculating what was possible and what sacrifices might be required.

    In the early days, it seemed like just a matter of time before we made it happen. We had pure motives, a little bit of talent, and a desire to work hard. I could see it, clear as day. On the hard days, the steadfast belief that it would come true kept me going. In my naiveté, I figured it would take a year, maybe three at most. (Ha!) 

    As months turned to years, and our kids got older, doubts crept in. I wondered if I was wasting my time. I wondered if I was only holding on in desperation, and that my death grip on my dream life was keeping me from living my real one.

    It was exhausting and soul-crushing at times. While on a family vacation in Florida, and with the kids asleep in bed, I was sitting on the balcony of our rental. Although it was too dark to see them, I could hear the Gulf’s waves pound the shoreline. My heart was broken, and I wished that I’d never had the dream at all. I was overcome by the desire to throw it back into the sea.

    I considered that maybe giving it up would give me relief and freedom. I yearned for someone from a Harry Potter book to cast a Memory Charm upon me, to obliviate the dream from my memory.

    That night on the balcony in Florida was February 3, 2020. A little over a month later, a pandemic began, and all hell broke loose in our lives.

    Yet somehow, just eleven months later, our family moved into our dream home on Lake Michigan. (Never in a million years did I think it would be one of the Great ones!)

    Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold (or other precious metals). Instead of disguising the damage, kintsugi highlights the repairs, transforming the broken object into a unique and beautiful piece. It’s a philosophy that embraces imperfections and impermanence, finding beauty in flaws and celebrating the history of an object. 

    It’s true that if a vessel breaks, it can never be made to look new again.

    But kintsugi makes it better than new, because it’s even more beautiful than it was before.

    Our brokenness makes us humble. Humility is the most beautiful virtue because it allows our other good qualities to shine fully and be most helpful to ourselves and the world.

    These broken places within us are not defects. They are the places where light can shine through. Those golden scars embody a soul that is stronger and a story that’s more beautiful because of the trial.

    This painting represents the slow patience that’s required of a person trying to achieve something great. It’s a reminder that we will experience the storms of struggle and brokenness. But it’s also a beacon of hope for brighter days ahead waiting for us if we persist.

    The journey may be harder than you expected, but the you that emerges will be better for it.