Topic: Change & Resiliency

  • 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 scrape 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 that 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.

  • Spring Break

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

    “All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”

    iPhone screens. Windows. Windshields. Bones. Baseball bats. Helmets. Even Humpty Dumpty.

    When something is cracked, we often think of it as ruined, useless, irredeemably broken.

    But when a bird’s egg cracks while in the confines of its nest, it is a sign of new life, a fresh beginning. Only moments before the first crack, the egg is pure, smooth, unbroken. Then the crack happens, disrupting the calm surface of the egg. 

    But what emerges next is something new and beautiful.

    Our business had its best year ever in 2019. Speaking in person, on live stages, was the biggest driver of revenue. Who would have predicted that such a business model could vanish so quickly? But of course, it did, thanks to the arrival of a tiny, unwelcome virus.

    Almost overnight, as speaking engagements went up in smoke, our business model cracked. Our future looked bleak. But we clung more fervently to our faith and were bolstered by the support of past clients and the merry band of Adultitis Fighters who had assembled behind us over the previous twenty years.

    We pivoted to a virtual world, developed a super secret membership community, and developed new skills that ushered in new opportunities. Not only did we survive, but we thrived, and ended up buying our dream home on the edge of Lake Michigan amidst the turmoil.

    It was an imaginable outcome twelve months earlier, but made possible thanks to an unwelcome disruption.

    A year and a half after we moved in, we countered another bad “break.” A 112-mph straight-line wind tore through our neighborhood and decimated our backyard, leaving a mess of uprooted trees and an enormous pile of debt in its wake.

    It was rough. We were safe, and it could have been worse, but we were broken. Fast forward another year and a half, and I am only now fully realizing the full scope of blessings that came forth from that challenging chapter.

    Sometimes our life cracks.

    Plans go south. Failures mount. Tragedy strikes.

    We lose the game, our health, or someone we love.

    We feel irredeemably broken.

    But that doesn’t have to be the end of the story. In fact, it might just be the start of a new and better one.

    This painting is a reminder of that first Easter morning, when something that undoubtedly felt like the end of the line miraculously turned into a glorious new beginning.

    Maybe something in your life has cracked recently.

    Is it broken, or the start of a new opportunity?

  • The Peach

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

    Eating a peach, in season, perfectly ripe, is pure magic. But also messy.

    Oh, sure, you can eat peaches before they’re ripe, and they might drip less, but they’re not nearly as good. The best peaches are always messy.

    Now I’ll admit it: I prefer tidy. I like the structure of a good plan. I feel good when the dishes are done and the counter is cleared. I’m easily disturbed when piles stay piles for too long.

    Is that an Adultitis-fueled trait? Perhaps. But I do find that I am more present, relaxed, and creative when clutter and chaos are minimised. In general, I don’t think it’s a terrible trait to have. And I don’t believe that an Adultitis-free life disregards any sense of order.

    That said, I think we can all agree that 2020 has been less than tidy. I recently reviewed a list of all the goals I’d set for the year, and I had to cross out about 80% of them because they’d become either irrelevant or impossible. This year has been a real mess of confusion, conflict, and anxiety. In many ways, it has been a bona fide dumpster fire.

    But can I let you in on a secret? We’re only halfway through, but I suspect I will look back on this year as one of the best years of my life. It might take me a few years to fully own that, but I can already see hints of its truthfulness.

    At the very beginning of the pandemic, Kim and I started doing daily live-streams from our kitchen table. We didn’t know what the future had in store for us, but the message we hammered on over and over was this: look for the opportunity. We encouraged you to ask yourself, “Now that this has happened, what does this make possible?”

    It was the advice we shared, but also followed. 

    This pandemic has strengthened my relationship with God in untold ways. It brought my family closer together. It has pushed me and Kim into making changes in our business that we’ve talked about for years, but never had the time for. It forced us into trying new things and learning new skills that will yield new fruit in the years to come. It birthed a brand new initiative – the biggest one we’ve ever undertaken – that seems destined for a time like this, but twenty years in the making. (More on that VERY soon!)

    I share this because I don’t think this can be chalked up to luck or talent. I share it because it’s a technique available to anyone and because it’s possible for 2020 to be your best year ever, too. 

    Preposterous?

    Look, we all have things outside of our control that work against us, obstacles that rise up to thwart us. But the bigger the obstacle, the bigger the opportunity. Our attitude, our mindset, the frame we choose to operate within, is entirely within our control. 

    You can feel under attack and choose not to play the role of victim.

    You can feel anxious and choose not to cower in a corner and give in to despair.

    You can feel like everything is a mess and still choose to look for beauty. 

    I remember the day we let our oldest daughter take control of her own ice cream cone for the first time. It was a beautiful Madison summer afternoon, and we were hanging out at the Memorial Union, overlooking picturesque Lake Mendota. We braved the super-duper-long line for ice cream and figured that rather than micromanage each lick, we’d give Lucy full reign over her Zanzibar Chocolate ice cream cone.

    Kim handed it to her, and she gave a look of surprise and wonderment that appeared to say, “Are you serious?”


    After getting assurance that she was on her own, Lucy dove right in, her hazel eyes shining with joy. She licked. She smiled. She concentrated. She beamed.

    And she ended up with the cutest brown goatee I ever did see.

    Meanwhile, the chocolate mess invaded everywhere from her nose to her toes. Her shirt and shorts were stained. The real breakthrough came when Kim, seeing the mammoth mess unfold before her very eyes, resisted every ounce of motherly urge to wrestle the cone back from our daughter. She let go of the dirty shirt, the sticky fingers, and the crazy sugar buzz that would be left behind.

    She let it all go.

    Later, she coined a great saying: “Never let making a mess get in the way of making a memory.”

    Please note, I’m not ignoring the mess and the less-than-ideal outcomes that come from it. I’d like to offer a moment of silence for Lucy’s tank top. Several washes and stain-stick treatments later, it was unable to be revived and ended up in the trash bin of history. That’s okay, though; we’ve decided that we’d much rather have the memories of that moment than the shirt. 

    That “deciding” part is the key.

    Seeing with new eyes isn’t about ignoring the mess. It’s about choosing to sort through it to find something good.

    You may find a lifelong memory, stumble upon a new business model, or uncover the opportunity of a lifetime.

    You know how, when people are asked if they would like to change a negative thing that happened in their past, they often say they’d leave things as is, because of the good things that came from it? That’s how I feel about 2020:

    I may not want to RELIVE it, but I don’t think I’ll want to UNDO it, either.

    Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we planned, expected, or even hoped. 2020 will probably go down as one of the messiest years we’ve ever experienced. The question is: Are you improving the odds that this year will go down as one of your best?

    Adventures are rarely tidy.

    Sometimes the greatest blessings spring forth from the biggest messes.

  • Hope in the Darkness

    “Hope In The Darkness” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    It was a dark and stormy night…

    …that lasted for months. 😳

    That’s the season we found ourselves in, when a pandemic descended and darkness filled the entire world, and months felt like centuries.

    As I think about darkness, I can’t help but think of a strange quality we humans have. Whether it’s a handful of birthday candles in a darkened room, the glowing embers from a campfire in the woods, or the flickering stars in a night sky, we can’t help but be drawn to the light.

    Throughout this pandemic, a particular phrase resurfaced again and again during my morning quiet times: fix my eyes.

    I encountered it so often, in songs, books, and videos, that I was curious to look it up and see if I might glean some deeper understanding. According to one dictionary definition, this version of “fix” means to direct one’s eyes, mind, or attention steadily or unwaveringly towards something.

    I immediately thought of a story in the Bible in which Peter, one of Jesus’ most lovable and bone-headed followers, gets to walk on water. The thing is, when he’s focused on Jesus, all is well and he is able to do the impossible. But when he shifts his attention to the raging waves, he’s swallowed by fear and begins to sink.

    The only difference is where Peter has chosen to fix his eyes.

    Back to this peculiarity that human beings are born with an innate attraction to light. Spend any time at sunset on any beach in the world, and you will find every single person staring at the sun. No one is facing the opposite direction.

    It’s not that we don’t notice the darkness. There were times during the pandemic when I was sucked in by it. It’s a scary place to dwell. During those times, my anxiety levels increase. Fear grows.

    But then I notice it.

    My attention is pulled away by something else…a tiny firefly, glowing amidst the expansive backdrop of black. Before long, I see another, and then another.

    These fireflies are the helpers. The people who have decided to help where they can. It’s the same light, but expressed by individuals in different ways.

    The high school principal who visited over 600 graduating seniors. 

    The woman delivering donuts to her staff who are working from home. 

    The DJ leading dance parties in the street. 

    It may be just as dark at one in the morning as it is at three, but only one of them is two hours closer to dawn. For most of us, it’s still night. But sunrise is closer than it was a month ago.

    The fireflies are hope in the darkness that we will see the light.

    Until morning comes –  which it will – may we continue to fix our eyes on the humble lights pulsing with hope all around us. 

    And may we flash our own light for others. 

    Process Video

  • 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?

  • Ring of Fire

    “Ring of Fire” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Everyone thinks the excitement that accompanies the start of a relationship is the best. 

    Granted, it IS intoxicating. Everything is new and mysterious. You’re wondering if the other person just likes you or actually “likes you” likes you. A simple touch ignites an inferno of passion. There’s so much to talk about as you’re constantly learning new things about one another. That way he chews, and that way she steals your jacket when she’s cold, is still cute and endearing.

    There’s no doubt about it: The beginning of a new relationship is pretty great.

    But then again, in the beginning, you’re just two separate entities. Like bread and cheese. Cheese is good. Bread is good. Put them together and you have a cheese sandwich. Also good.

    But Johnny Cash was right when he sang that love is a burning thing. It doesn’t get really good until you’ve gone through some fires together. That’s when you really get to know what you’re made of, as you melt together and you become one. That melty, gooey goodness is where the magic’s at. And have you ever tried to separate a grilled cheese sandwich? It’s not easy. Which is how it should be. 

    Combined, my parents and Kim’s parents have been married for over 90 years. They have struggled and endured many, many fires. But through it all, they’ve stuck together. In today’s day and age, that’s no small feat. Is there a secret? I don’t know. I’m sure there’s luck involved, but I know that it’s not all luck. I know communication is really important. And mutual respect. And a willingness to give more than you get.

    But I think the real secret is that it comes down to a choice to stick together, no matter what. Infatuation is a feeling, but love? Love is a choice. When my parents exchanged vows on their wedding day, promising they’d be there for each other no matter what, in sickness and in health, through the good times and the fires…they meant it. For reals. 

    And when I married Kim, that’s how I looked at it too. Death will have to break us apart; it’s the only option. We have not left an escape hatch for ourselves. The ships back to a world where we go our separate ways are smoldering sticks of charcoal. When disagreements emerge, a fight erupts, and feelings are hurt, Plan A is to work it out.

    There is no Plan B. 

    When you don’t burn the ships, there’s a very high probability that someday, you’ll use them to sail away from one another. 

    Of course, you can throw all of this out the window if both people aren’t on board. If one flakes out or doesn’t live up to the promise, it all falls apart. And that is nothing short of heartbreaking.

    I write this to give hope to the newlyweds, to the people thinking about giving this love thing another go, and to those who are in the middle of one of those scary fires right now. 

    As James Blunt sang, “Everybody wants a flame, they don’t want to get burnt.”

    It’s true: once you get past the lovey-dovey stage of a relationship, and experience the fires that flare up when things get real, you will come out a little charred. 

    But that char – the battle scars from a life lived together – add a richness, depth, and magic that a regular old cheese sandwich can only dream about. 

  • Hope in the Desert

    “Hope in the Desert” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available. 🟢 Shop this art!

    When Kim and I started this adventure, we were optimistic. Very. When we decided to abandon my career as a freelance illustrator and designer, we felt very strongly that my comic strip, Kim & Jason was going to hit the big time. We planned to live on Kim’s kindergarten teaching salary, which we knew would require sacrifice, but we were fairly certain that within a year, Kim & Jason would take the world by storm and we’d be exchanging phone calls with Oprah and her people.

    We had no idea it would take five years before we’d be able to earn a living with our business. And by earning a living, I mean simply replacing Kim’s robust $23,000 teaching salary. 

    It didn’t take long for the optimism that launched our big dream to fade. For much of those five years, it felt like we were living in the desert. Any encouraging email from a reader, or an order on our store that didn’t come from someone we knew, were like drops of water on a parched tongue.

    The dream never died, but we wondered at times if it was merely a mirage. Every so often, we’d lie awake in bed, wondering if we were officially crazy. We certainly felt like the whole process of scraping to pay bills while struggling to turn a profit was driving us mad.

    The truth is, I had a lot of dreams that never came true.

    We lived in an apartment for eight years, which is exactly seven years longer than we planned. We went to an open house in a trendy, developing neighborhood for a condo we wanted, just to get photos for our vision board (which I thought was a pretty clever way to speed the process along.)

    Long story short, we never got into that condo. Kim & Jason never hit the big time. It never even hit the medium time.

    But I stand before you today to let you know that Elizabeth Barrett Browning was right: God’s gifts do put man’s best dreams to shame.

    During those early days, speaking was not on the radar. Giving a TED talk wasn’t on my vision board (mostly because TED didn’t even exist yet). But shortly AFTER Kim retired, speaking emerged as a big driver of our business model and enabled our family to visit some amazing places I never could have imagined.

    We never got the condo, but that was because we were led to a house instead, which we bought just as the condo market in Madison was cratering due to oversupply. And a hotel with a big parking lot got built right next to the condo we had pined for.

    Bullet. Dodged.

    I meanwhile, I retired Kim & Jason in 2007. But I still make art, I think it’s even better, and it’s definitely more fulfilling. And it led to an evening like this. 

    Like an explorer marooned in a desert, life can be a struggle. Things can seem bleak, desolate, hopeless.

    Maybe this feels a lot like you, right now.

    During these times, a simple glass of water seems like a priceless treasure.

    But keep going. Have faith. Stay the course.

    What you ultimately encounter may end up putting your original dreams to shame.

  • 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.

  • Enjoy the Climb

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

    If you were to place your nose really close to this canvas and focus only on one of the goats, what would you see? A mountain goat on a snowy mountain. The environment around them is boring, plain, cold, and possibly treacherous.

    I was reading some old journals the other day. I was struck by how concerned I was about details of projects and initiatives that are no longer relevant to our current business model. Problems that needed to be solved, or else! Pitfalls that seemed like backbreakers. At first, I felt disappointment that I had wasted so much time on things that, in the end, didn’t matter at all. But then I realized that’s how life works. You struggle through, doing the best you can with the information you have. Hopefully, you learn from your mistakes, grow, and move forward. I realized that in ten years, a review of the journal I wrote this morning will probably feel the same way; only the details will have changed.

    Back to the painting now. Look at the big picture.

    Holy cow, those goats are surrounded by ice cream! 

    Sometimes we miss the cool things happening in our lives, because we’re too focused on the struggles right in front of us.

    A few years ago, I was enjoying a wonderful dinner with some speaker friends. We started a table discussion about the best place you’ve ever been that you’d like to go back to. While others shared amazing stories of Tuscany, Brazil, and Ireland, I felt silly because all I could think of was the Quality Inn in Clearwater, Florida.

    I’m pretty sure the year was 2007. Kim and I didn’t have kids yet, and we were in the early stages of my speaking career. We’d recently been to a speakers’ convention where a guy named Randy Gage talked about these exotic bungalows in Tahiti. He noted that some are perched over the water, featuring cool glass-bottomed floors, and wondered why anyone would invest the considerable expense to vacation in Tahiti and then settle for the slightly cheaper but extremely less exotic wood-bottomed accommodations a few hundred feet inland.

    So as we checked into the Quality Inn, the host offered us the option of upgrading from our “Garden View” room (which savvy travelers know as code for “Ugly Roof and Air Conditioning Unit View”) to an “Ocean View” room.

    “How much extra would that cost?” we asked.

    “$20 a night,” was the reply.

    We huddled to talk it over. Twenty bucks was a big deal for us, which should not come as a surprise because, as I mentioned, we were checking into a QUALITY INN.

    With Randy’s rallying cry still ringing in our ears, we threw caution to the wind and said YES.

    Isn’t it funny how often it takes far less than a million dollars to feel like a millionaire? That’s definitely how we felt as we triumphantly surveyed our ocean view.

    Photographers often refer to the hour before sunset as “magic hour,” because the light from the sun casts a beautiful golden hue on everything it touches. I remember lying on our bed, watching the sun sink into the Gulf. And I still remember how beautiful Kim looked. I’m so glad we snapped this selfie before selfies were a thing.

    I also remember that back then, we spent a lot of our time dreaming of “making it” and looking forward to the days when we’d be checking into much fancier hotels, you know, like Quality Inns in Tuscany.

    I spent a lot of time striving, worrying, and wishing I were somewhere else. Somewhere better. But I look back now and realize what an exciting, fun time that really was.

    Sometimes we get so caught up chasing the next moment that we forget to savor the one we’re in.

    Wherever you are on the mountain right now, enjoy the climb.