1 Thing You Can Do This Week (To See Things Done)

1 Thing You Can Do This Week …

(To See Things Done)

How much preparation is necessary to begin a task and how much energy is required to complete it?

Most aspirations, goals, projects and dreams find their graveyard in that cemetery of contemplation.

Because we are frightened of beginning something and looking foolish, or running out of money, or failing to complete it, we decide that hesitating, delaying and avoiding is often the more mature choice.

I am not sure that the airplane could ever have been invented if there were not thousands of legitimate attempts to make one which failed–but in the process, gave a valued piece of information for going forward.

So the one thing you can do this week is:

Find what needs to be done and learn how to do it.

In the process of that education, you may well discover that the conclusion is far beyond your ability, or maybe even grasp.

But you will become informed. Therefore, you will progress the cause and you will possess greater understanding of yourself and your world with this noble attempt.

There are two great responsibilities given to the human race

1. Tell the truth

Nothing goes forward when we’re constantly trying to do damage control and lying.

2. Try something

Stop discussing, plotting, criticizing or undermining the efforts you see around you and get behind an idea, having first prepared yourself by learning how to be a good contributor.

That is your goal for this week–the one thing.

When you find what needs to be done, sit down and learn if there’s any way that you can lend a helping hand.

P. S. (This is actually a double P. S.):

My heart and soul are crushed this morning over the loss of Gilda York, a friend of mine who followed today’s principle as a champion. She took the young people around her and gave them direction, purpose and a little bit of beauty that they wouldn’t otherwise have experienced. She was killed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver

And also, today is my anniversary. The secret to marriage is actually to have the stamina and intelligence not to keep too many secrets.

 

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The Alphabet of Us: I is for Intelligent… February 2, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2491)

Building block I big

All human beings possess a heart, soul, mind and strength. Nothing of any true significance can be achieved unless this is understood.

  • Information
  • Knowledge
  • Smart
  • Intelligent
  • Insight
  • And wisdom.

Normally these words are used synonymously with each other. Would you please allow me to assign different meanings to these words, and in the process of doing so, inflame them with purpose?

Let’s begin with a little piece of prose:

We gather information

To study knowledge

Then learn what’s smart

So we can experiment by being intelligent

To acquire insight

Which promotes wisdom.

Stuck right there in the middle of the verses, is the word “intelligent.” Intelligent is the status we achieve when after gathering information, gaining knowledge and discerning what is really smart, we decide to experiment with these ideas to improve our quality.

As you can imagine, it is possible to stop off at any stage along the way and declare yourself to be intellectual.

For instance, someone can just go on the Internet, dig up the latest gossip, and tout themselves “informed.”

Other folks go to the university and cram for exams, to repeat back knowledge which has been determined as acceptable for acquiring a diploma. (Some of those brave souls actually go out, put their knowledge into application in the business world and get smart.

But intelligent is when we personally experiment, challenging what has come our way and what has been taught to us, in order to unearth validity.

I call it the “Rit dye test.”

I’m probably dating myself a bit by talking about Rit dye. When I was a teenager I had a lovely shirt, but it was white. I wanted it to be gold.

So I bought a box of Rit dye, which was labeled “yellow.” Fortunately for me, on that day I was in an astute mode, so I read the directions. They cautioned me to take a small spot on the bottom of the shirt and dye it first, to make sure I had the color I desired.

I did that, and lo and behold, it was anemic.

It took me about eight boxes of Rit dye, blending yellow, red, some blue–well, I forget all the combinations I tried–to end up with the perfect gold for my shirt.

Having run all the tests, I dunked my shirt into the concocted dye and pulled out a magnificent masterpiece.

That’s what it means to be intelligent.

Just because its been said, proclaimed, preached, called holy or scientific, take a moment and test it in your own life.

It is the only way we get to the point where we gain the insight which leads to wisdom.

If you’re not willing to challenge the status quo and test it, be prepared to land in the discarded pile of all those who trusted conventional thinking and fell short.

It’s the Rit dye philosophy: if you know what color you’re looking for, be intelligent enough to seek it out until you get just the right hue.

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Untotaled: Stepping 42 (August 27th, 1967) Driven… November 29, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2428)

(Transcript)

I woke up in one of those adolescent grumpy moods, staring at the ceiling, disgusted with my life.

It was nearly time for school to start again and I felt like I had squandered my entire summer, worrying about how little summer I had left.

Even the things I had done which seemed enjoyable had passed too quickly, and now it was time to go back to school–to pretend to be a student and memorize a bunch of information which would give me a good grade on a test, knowing in my heart that I would soon forget the knowledge, yet knowing that somewhere in the future, I would be expected to remember it.

I had acquired three dollars yesterday by finally mowing the lawn, which had grown so high that one of the neighbors had complained to my parents, fearing that varmaints or snakes might dwell within. I reluctantly did the job and was rewarded with the remuneration.

So I woke up with a scratch I needed to itch. That’s the way it is when you’re a teenager–it’s not really an itch you need to scratch, but rather, an ongoing scratching sensation and needing an itch to justify it.

I got in my car and headed over to Katie’s house. She was the highlight of my summer. We had come together to search for pop bottles we could turn in for deposit to get gas money so we could drive around, talk and be silly.

There was nothing romantic involved, though candidly, I would have jumped her at the slightest invitation. She just thought I was funny.

When I picked her up that day, she had two dollars she had earned by picking blackberries on her grandma’s farm. Between us we had five dollars, three candy bars and some leftover tuna sandwiches her mother had foisted on her as she departed.

Katie explained that she needed to be home by three o’clock in the afternoon, and since it was already ten-thirty, our time would be shortened.

I told her that since we had enough money to buy fifteen gallons of gasoline, that we should drive three hours somewhere, talk, laugh and turn around to drive three hours back.

She was cool with it so we took off for Columbus.

Driving on I-71, we reached the south end of Columbus. Then that scratch that needed an itch suddenly raised its head. So I said, “Let’s keep going.”

She was nervous but agreed–and before too long we passed through Washington Court House, Wilmington and suddenly found ourselves on the outskirts of Cincinnati. It was deliciously naughty, filled with wild abandon and irresponsibility.

A sign read that the Ohio River was four miles ahead. I had never seen the Ohio River, and Katie had only passed over it in a car with her parents while being sound asleep in the back seat. So I said, let’s do it.

We crossed the river into Kentucky.

We felt like fugitives. It was similar to trying to make our way into the Soviet Union through the Iron Curtain (they had that back then).

Everything on the other side of the river, including a town named Covington, looked so different. We felt like Christopher Columbus eyeballing the New World.

Suddenly, Katie looked down at her watch and it was two o’clock in the afternoon, and she realized there was no way she would be able to get back in time. There also were no cell phones or texting, and pay phones were out of the question because we had used all of our money for petrol.

So knowing we were going to get in trouble, we turned the car around and headed back the way we came. It was the strangest combination of fear, jubilance, independence, anxiety and nervous bowel twinges that I’ve ever experienced in my life.

Strangely enough, when we arrived home, people really didn’t say much about us being late–just that we should never do it again.

Katie and I knew that was impossible.

Something changed that day.

I no longer felt bound to a small home on a tiny street in a little village. I realized there was a big world out there–and the only way I would ever get to it and be myself was to survive a couple more years of provincial schooling … to finally be able to point my life in my own direction.

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Jesonian: Picky and Goofy … March 23, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog  

(2183)

camel“It’s important.”

I hear it all the time.

People have gone off into their own soul, deciding for themselves what they have determined to be of value in life.

Sometimes it’s religious, other times political and often it’s business.

My job? Listen, learn, observe–or face their wrath.

Here’s my problem with the “important” crowd: it’s not open for discussion.

Matter of fact, they become very picky. They not only want you to know it’s important, they take you to step two, which is: we need to do it.

Now it’s not only important, but we need to do it–and the we demands me.

Step 3: “If we don’t do it, we’ll be in trouble.”

At this point, any objection I might lodge would be anti-God, anti-American, anti-human and anti-reasonable. And of course, unfortunately, this lends itself to a fourth conclusion: “Don’t listen to anything else.”

Thus, 350 different Christian denominations in America.

Everybody has gotten picky, decided that we all need to do it, and if we don’t we’ll be in trouble–and by the way, if you’re smart, don’t listen to anybody else.

So here’s my assertion–I believe that “picky” leads to “goofy.”

Once you choose a lifestyle of being certain about everything, you start getting goofy about enforcement.  For instance:

How much flax is my your cereal?

Ridiculous discussions in church board meetings about whether communion wine could be white, or must be red?

Committee meetings in Washington, D.C. arguing over a point of parliamentary procedure (after fighting a war rebelling against Parliament…)

Picky leads to goofy.

Once folks get picky over little things, they often become goofy over the big things that are really important.

Offering a solution–may I call it a Jesonian one?

  1. It could be important–I’m not sure, but let’s chat.
  2. Let’s ask ourselves–what happens if we apply this? Do we learn, grow or go backwards?
  3. And what will is the progress? Are we afraid of evolution? Is it against our religion–literally?
  4. And finally, what is the next revelation? Because if we just discovered one important thing, what makes us think it’s the last one? There’s another one coming. Are you ready? Do you have some room in your brain? Can you open up your soul for it?

Picky people eventually become goofy and then they become more annoying than valuable.

So stop straining at the gnat and swallowing the camel.

It makes you look like you’re trying to be God instead of on a quest to find Him.

 

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The Carlisle Connection (a simple story)… August 14, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(1975)

Nothingness cried out into the darkness, and …

God appeared.

God created man for fellowship.

Man requested woman for companionship.

Woman sought knowledge and uncovered confusion.

Confusion stumbled about, probing for intelligence.

Intelligence acquired experience.

Experience persevered and accumulated information.

Information repeated itself and became boredom.

Boredom gave up … and was left with nothingness

We begin again.

This time, let us hope that we seek wisdom instead of mere knowledge.

A better choice always saves time.

Carlisle Church

Carlisle Church

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