Cracked 5 … August 31st, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4153)

Funny things you say to your eye doctor, but he is too serious, so you try to explain the joke and it really bombs.

 

A.  He says, “How are you?”

     You say, “We shall SEE.”

 

B.  You say, “The top letter looks like a B—but I guess it could be an E.”

 

C.  You say, “If I’m going blind can I get one of those cool dogs?”

 

D.  You keep answering his questions by saying, “Outta Sight!” or “Far out!”

 

E.  You tell him that your right eye is offending you so you would like to pluck it out.

 

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity 

 

Sit Down Comedy … August 30th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4152)

The eyes pop open and the feet are heading toward the floor—it’s the beginning of another day. Right there, in this pivoting moment, you get the message.

A feeling sweeps over your body, informing you where you are and threatening to control your whole living space.

Stop rushing.

With your still feet on the floor, ask yourself a question—out loud, if you’re alone:

How do I feel?

Don’t be surprised if the answer comes back, “Shitty.” Or maybe, “Great.” It could be, “I’m not sure.”

Unfortunately, many people believe it is wrong to run your life by how you feel.

Since educational systems are very similar for all of us, our religions don’t differ that much and our politics bluster controversy but don’t render anything unique, what ends up setting us apart are feelings.

Please do not think you can control your existence through “mind over matter.”

You aren’t a goddamn Ninja and you certainly don’t have a sword.

The best and the worst you’ve got are your emotions. Therefore, speak the question, “How do I feel?” Make it your morning drill.

Then, when you get the answer, ask a second question:

Why do I feel this way?

Sometimes it’s because you watched a scary movie before you went to bed, or you have to pay a bill or take a test. Or maybe you spent your nighttime hours eating like a four-year-old in a candy store.

You will be surprised that the physical, psychological and even spiritual can often hijack your feelings. Identify the reasons.

This is what I refer to as a S.O.D.—a sense of dread.

Something is going to come up that you don’t want to come up and you’re frightened about how it’s going to come down.

It won’t be resolved by a good breakfast. You can’t get the shower hot enough. Playing music in the background has limited possibilities.

Make note:

You aren’t living a life—you are learning to masterfully maneuver your emotions.

And by maneuver, I mean find them, identify their source and open yourself up to other people. Yes, never be afraid, when you emerge from your room in the morning, and someone asks you how you feel, to speak the truth out loud.

“Physically I’m pretty good, mentally I’m a little scattered and for some reason I’m a little nervous.”

This statement is for your benefit–because we gain power and healing as human beings when we confess who we are openly.

So let’s review:

First question: How do I feel?

Second question: Why do I feel this way?

Confession: Based upon what I know thus far, these are my beginning sensations today.

Candidly, if you try to ignore your starting feeling, you will fail the day. On the other hand, if you identify the feeling, you will receive a much greater sense of well-being. Once you know how you really feel, have figured out the source of it, and you’ve confessed it out loud—either to yourself or someone else—then you’re ready for the door.

Sometimes it’s a door in, and sometimes a door out.

But many of us ruin our morning, still bleary-eyed and uncertain. We’re not maneuvering our emotions, and we miss the door. But if you know how you feel and you’ve identified where it came from and you’ve confessed your profile, then you’ll see the door in or the door out.

It’s probably one of the most exciting things—and one of the most unexplainable happenings in our lives.

A way is made for us if we are ready to see the door.

Then, once you see the it and you have yourself primed, enter the door. Change, adapt, include, evolve. When you do these things, you find yourself in greater unity with the world around you instead of going into situations kicking and screaming, blaming others and eventually laying it at the doorstep of God.

So find the door in or out, then change—happy that you’ve alerted yourself. And finally you end the day grateful.

There is a much better chance that you will wake up the next morning feeling better if you end your day grateful.

It’s not luck. It’s not chaos. And by the way, God does not have a wonderful plan for your life.

This is your space and your doing. If you want to do it with power, begin each day with, “How do I feel and why do I feel that way?”

Then confess, look for the door in or out, change, and move toward the solution.

And finish it off by giving a big chuckle in gratitude.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this inspirational opportunity

---

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

 

3 Things … August 29th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4151)

That Have to Happen Before What You Want to Happen Actually Can Happen

1. Take an honest inventory of what you have and what you can do

 

2. Immediately turn all of your wishing into a passion of present action

 

3. Imitate what you desire in your life right here and right now

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity

Drawing Attention … August 28, 2019

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(4450)

Encircled 2

(tap the picture to see the video)

art by smarrttie pants

Music: T.G.A.F.A.L. (Thank God Almighty Free At Last), by Jonathan Richard Cring

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity

---

 

Not Long Tales … August 27th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4149)

3.

The Assignment

Miss Tamara Taylor was thirteen days into her sixth year of teaching third grade at the John F. Kennedy Elementary School in Shimmering Pines, Virginia.

She was a single woman—not by design. She did favor the attention of a male admirer. Matter of fact, in her twenty-six years of being “the great American girl,” she had encountered three lovers, one actually a suitable suitor. He had been willing to share her bed and consider “wed,” until all at once, he got frightened by the specter of a never-ending future, and bought himself a one-way ticket to oblivion. He hadn’t been heard of since.

Tamara had not given up on possibilities but had learned the charm of dinner for one. She told her closest friend that she “didn’t mind dealing with children at work but did not want to come home to one.”

After six years of teaching, she found it beneficial to develop a philosophy. Some of her fellow educators were intent on the program, the knowledge, the books or the discipline. Tamara’s thoughts were much simpler. She decided the best way to teach young children was: don’t harm them and awaken something. She permitted her students call her “Miss T.” She didn’t mind at all, and being part of the present generation, they were absolutely enthralled with the abbreviation.

After thirteen days of cafeteria lunches, her class was gradually getting used to seating assignments and her style of conveying information. So Miss T decided to offer an assignment. She phrased it this way: Write two hundred words on ‘If You Had to Decide Today What or Who You Would Want to Be When You Are Old Like Me.”

The whole class giggled when they heard the title, which was her intent. It didn’t stop them from grumbling over the notion of having to put together a paragraph or two, but the subject matter certainly stirred their brains in the direction their hearts were already mounting a desire.

The papers were turned in yesterday, and she spent the night reading them. She found that the choices her students made fell into categories. When it came to the matter of who or what they wanted to be, king or queen were quite popular. Of course, President made an appearance. Ballerina and rock star were favored—one girl dreaming of being a ballerina by day and a pop diva by night.

There were a couple of firemen, a doctor, a nurse. Money was brought up quite often. Several wanted to be a mommy and a couple, a daddy. And for some reason, one student wanted to manufacture ukuleles.

Then she came to Andrew. He was a quiet, shy, frightened, bullied, smiling lad. Andrew was thoughtful. Andrew refused to follow the color scheme of the common playground. Andrew noticed bugs on the sidewalk. Andrew was the only one who observed that Miss T had changed her hair.

So Andrew’s essay was as different as his choices. It was entitled, “Not Sour.” It read:

My dad likes grapefruit. It is sour. One day he asked me to eat some. He had that smile on his face that told me it was a trick. I took a bite. My mouth puckered. He laughed as I tried to spit the bad taste out. He said, “Grapefruit is sour.”

Dad told me that people can be that way, too. He said that grapefruit needs something to make it sweet. Sugar, honey, that pink stuff, or the blue. Is there one that’s yellow? Or maybe green? Anyway, every sour needs a sweet. The Chinese people figured that out.

My Dad said it’s our job to make our grapefruit taste good. But remember, sweet isn’t good all by itself. It needs a job. It needs to sweeten something.

I don’t want to be sad about the sour in life. I want to sprinkle. I looked that word up. I want to be a sweetener. Maybe I can just go out and join the mess but make things sweeter. I hope that’s not too weird. I don’t think I want to live in a sour world, but I don’t think it will get sweet by itself. So I guess if I have to grow up and do something, I want to be a sweetener. Yeah, I think that’s it.

But maybe driving a limousine, too.

Miss T finished reading the essay and sat back, engulfed in smiling tears. It was so beautiful that she knew all the teachers and grown-ups would want to hang it up, print it or ask young Andrew to read it at some sort of assembly. This was a problem. He was already battling being different and bullied. What would the rest of the kids do if they found out that he wanted to be a sweetener? Clever is a wonderful thing, unless you live around people who are dull.

Miss T wanted to reward his beautiful thoughts.

Miss T wanted to stimulate his budding creative energy.

Miss T desired to have the essay read and understood by everyone at John F. Kennedy Elementary School.

Miss T even knew that the citizens of Shimmering Pines, Virginia, could profit from listening to little Andrew’s ideas.

But Miss T also knew that what was a solution for others could be a huge problem for Andrew.

She took a solid hour considering what to do. Finally, on his paper she wrote A+ Good Work, and tucked it away in her folder.

She needed time to think about it.

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly donation for this inspirational opportunity

1 Thing to Always Remember

 

Patience is Planting

It isn’t sitting around, waiting for your life to begin, continue or change.

You can’t wait for what you didn’t order.

If you roll through the drive-through at McDonald’s and don’t stop off to speak into the box and tell them what you want, you can’t ease up to the window and think you’ll end up with a bag of goodies.

You won’t reap what you haven’t sown.

Patience is making it clear what you desire, and then stepping away from the prayer, the proclamation or the meeting, and going out to find a way to imitate, to the best of your ability, exactly what you hope to have fulfilled one day.

If you want to be in business, start selling something.

If you want to be a minister, share a story and help someone.

If you want to be a singer, go down to the old folks’ home. Perform a couple of songs and see if they throw tapioca at you.

Life is very simple: Find your seed, cast it, forget it. Then cast more, forget more.

If something can grow, it will.

That is the way of the Earth.

But nothing grows from nothing. Nothing grows from just prayer. Nothing grows from a request.

And certainly, nothing ever grew from a complaint.

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly donation for this inspirational opportunity

 

Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4147)

Sitting Thirty-Four

Wishing the silence could continue, yet nervous over nothing being said, at length Pal spoke. “Your throw-up really smells bad. Extra bad. I think it was that fish and mustard.”

Iz took a deep breath, as if preparing for a long speil. “Yours smelled worse,” he enunciated. “It just all stunk really, really bad.”

For some reason, both Iz and Pal found this statement to be the funniest thing they’d ever heard. They laughed as much as their sore ribs would permit. After a few minutes, the giggling calmed, gradually allowing them to settle in on a refreshing still.

But determinedly, Pal once again broke the silence. “Is it really the end?”

“Well, it’s sure not the beginning,” said Iz.

A pause.

“Holy peace,” said Pal quietly.

Iz jerked his head in his friend’s direction. “What?”

“I was just remembering,” Pal’s voice sounded sleepy, almost dreamy. He continued. “When I was nine years old, Father took me to Jerusalem, and there was this man with a long beard and gray hair down his back, carrying a small sign. It read, Holy Peace. What do you think of that?”

Iz didn’t have much interest. “I don’t know.”

Pal turned toward his friend. “What is holy peace?”

“I don’t know,” Iz repeated. “Maybe just that old man’s dream.” Iz was not comfortable with the discussion, the change in emotion and the sudden solemnity.

Pal either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I was only nine, but for some reason, those two words stuck in my mind. ‘Holy peace.’ I’ve never been able to shake them.” He glanced over at Iz to see if he was listening, then continued. “To me, holy peace is being able to do what you need to do, without hurting anyone else.”

Iz was angered by this. “How can you do that? Because if they want what you want, then there has to be a battle.”

“Does there?” challenged Pal. “I mean, if there are two of something, can’t you share one? And even if there’s one, can’t it be broken to make two? Why isn’t that possible? Is it just stupid?”

“No,” said Iz. “It’s not stupid. But it’s just the way boys think. By the time they become men, they have to have it all.”

Pal looked to the heavens and then over to his friend. There were tears in his eyes. “Here’s to staying boys.”

Iz smiled but turned away. “Holy peace,” he mused. “I guess to me, holy peace is just living in a world without being afraid that the little bit you’ve got is going to be taken away.”

“Who will take it?” asked Pal.

Iz promptly replied. “Always the ones who don’t really need it—who just want to see if they can get more.”

“Are you talking about your Pada?” questioned Pal.

“No,” spat Iz. Then he thought. “Well, maybe. He’s just a tiny version of all the craziness that lives around him. Tries to pretend to be strong because that’s what everyone tells him he should do. But he’s only strong with me, and weak with himself. He wants me to be afraid of him. I can’t do that to me…or him. I can’t live with that fear.”

“So you love your Pada?” asked Pal tenderly.

“Who knows?” replied Iz, trying to escape too much feeling. “I try. But I’m too young to know. Do you love yours?”

Pal looked down at his hands, then straight ahead. “Sometimes I wonder what his face looked like the first time he saw me—I mean, after I was born. I would love to see that face. I would love to know that for one moment, I pleased him. Iz—I want to think he loves me, but only because that’s what I’m supposed to think. Do you know what I mean?”

Iz quietly nodded his head. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. That’s why we’re here. We both got tired of guessing. Is it ever to early to start doing?”

Pal rolled over on his side. “Iz? Holy peace.”

“Yeah, what about it?” asked Iz.

“Holy peace is being with you,” said Pal sweetly.

“Same here, Pal.”

It was the last thing they remembered that Wednesday evening. The desert night stole their minds, generously providing sleep for their depleted souls.

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity