Little is Big on a Bad Day … February 15, 2013

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Pictured above is the Miakka School House, a historical landmark which I photographed last night during my visit to the tiny community, which is strategically enclosed in the greenery and mushiness of Central Florida.

You might suspect that in person, the schoolhouse does not appear to be psychedelic. I have enhanced it. Some people would say I’ve distorted the image. Such is life. Rarely do we get a glimpse of an image in actuality before our minds take it over and attempt to either enhance it, or in a fit of frustration, distort it.

I will tell you this of a certainty–very few people have their lives ruined by a disaster–mainly because disasters are rare. It is much more likely to have your life altered, devastated or left barren by a little thing that is blown out of proportion than it ever is by being struck by lightning. The human tendency to take “little things” and make them “big” simply because “we’re having a bad day” is what renders us fearful, suspicious and often frozen–unable to move forward.

Our upbringing doesn’t help. Adding to the trepidation are the number of murders offered on television as evidence of a cruel society. And honestly, just the human tendency to think that evil is more intriguing than good causes us to swing to the dark side. I guess it would be harmless if it weren’t so harmful. But it is often in the midst of our false concerns that we fail to recognize a true opportunity, which ends up leaving us with a mess.

How can we keep from distorting the facts presented to us? Or just as bad, from trying to enhance everything in order to make it look better, ending up with a bizarre representation?

First of all, I think we have to admit to ourselves early in our morning that we are ill-prepared for the day and have set our feet toward being a dunderhead. Sometimes I even give those around me the gracious warning that I am a ticking time bomb of stupidity.  Amazingly, often that is enough to shake us out of our dim-wittedness.

Yes, merely confessing “I’m having a bad day” sometimes changes it into a good day. But if you continue to walk around in a foul mood, insisting there is nothing wrong with you, it’s everybody around you doing “stinky work,” you can set in motion the beginnings of a real disaster.

“I’m having a bad day. Please, someone help me.”

And since you know you’re having one of those bad days, and you are susceptible to making everything little too big, don’t make any decisions without asking three questions:

1. Have I done this before? Is this situation in front of me, which seems so foreign and problematic, really just an opportunity that I’ve previously handled, wearing a different hat? You will be surprised at how encouraging it is to remember former successes.

2. If this did happen before, what did I learn from it? Most people think that the brain remembers things because we see something that triggers memory. Actually the brain only remembers things when we ask it to retrieve similar occurrences. The brain is not helpful, just available. So if you don’t ask your brain to dredge up the past, it will lock it up solutions like they’re in solitary confinement. What did I learn the last time?

3. And finally, what is different with today? Occasionally something will be unique in your present dilemma. But usually not. Generally speaking, the only thing separating today’s frustration from yesterday’s clear-headedness is a bad night’s sleep, nightmares or low blood sugar. What is different?

By the time you finish asking these three magical questions, having already admitted  having a bad day, you have much less chance of turning something little into something big, distorting the image set in front of you. It is a problem we humans encounter incessantly. Therefore, it would be a good idea to have a plan of action for handling it.

Because of the rainy, drippy weather, only a handful of determined souls made it out from the Floridian rural countryside to our concert last night. I drove a long way to get there. So I was tempted to take something little–like poor attendance–and make it a big thing. Instead I asked myself the questions:

• Have I been here before? Yes, and every time that I remained faithful, it’s always been beautiful.
• What did I learn? Whether you and I are in front of eleven people or eleven thousand, it makes no difference if I am sharing in a bad mood. So buck up.
• What is different? Me. I am different because now God has given me the grace to ask these miraculous questions instead of dumping bad attitude along the side of the freeway like I’m running away from town to escape an eviction notice.

You don’t need to enhance your life and you certainly don’t need to distort it. Just stop making little things big–just because you’re having a bad day.

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

Tapping Tapestry… December 31, 2011

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Jonathan in Miami

John Candy died. It rattled my soul to its depths.

It wasn’t just because I enjoyed his work or relished his comedic wit. More importantly, he was just about my size and my age. It made me think about my own mortality–especially when a mere two months later, I fell ill. I had been sick before–you know, where you cough, blow your nose, recover from a sprained ankle or have a headache that goes away with a few aspirin and a good night’s sleep.

This was different. This was a sickness that grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go. It not only infested my body with pain and discomfort, but sent shock warnings through my mind of the seriousness of the situation. I tried to ignore it; I attempted to medicate it. I even tried to exercise it away. It got worse. There was a sense of ill will throughout every member of my faculties. Finally I relented to go to the doctor. I was immediately placed in the hospital, where I stayed for three days as they tested me, but failing to discover precisely what the problem was.

Meanwhile, one of my sons decided to brighten up my room by bringing in a Christmas tree–even though it was June. He knew how much I enjoyed the holiday. My wife brought in a boom box and a few musical cassettes for me to play. I really didn’t want to hear anything. I just felt … horrible. Half of the medical staff was convinced that some of the problem was in my head, while the remainder of them persisted in their examinations. Meanwhile, I flirted with depression, ready to have a full affair.

It was especially bad at night. During the day, I kept my chin up (both of them) and remained optimistic. But nighttime in a hospital may be the closest thing to solitary confinement that I ever want to  experience. The blinking lights on my Christmas tree, intended to cheer me up, resembled a warning beacon of the doom lying ahead. So one night I reached over, picked up a cassette, and dropped it into the boom box. It was Carole King’s Tapestry.I do not know whether I was just vulnerable, needy or finally open enough to hear the music, but as her album played, I just laid in my bed and cried. When she sang, Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? I wept because I wondered if there would be a tomorrow.  Her song, Far Away, made me yearn for the freedom to be out of the hospital and back to my life again. Too Late, Baby caused me to hope that I wasn’t. Way Over Yonder gave me the promise that no matter what happened through the diagnosis, I still had a future. Even Smackwater Jack put a little feisty fight into my soul. I just kept playing that cassette over and over again, energized every time she sang Beautiful (…“you’ve got to get up every morning, with a smile on your face …”) I even teared up over Natural Woman, although my manliness was completely intact. And of course, You’ve Got a Friend saved my soul from the desperation of giving up on possibility.

Carole King became my ministering angel. I recalled that some people didn’t like her, thinking she was a singer that couldn’t even win an audition for a glee club at a small junior college, but I didn’t care. Her songs were anointed with spirit, hope, humanity and tenderness and in that darkened room, with Christmas lights flashing, I found God through Carole King.

About four days into my ordeal, they discovered I had two large abscesses in my body that needed to be removed. I was so relieved to find out that I was really sick. They told me that the operation was serious and that I could lose the ability to take care of my own bowels–and maybe end up in a wheel chair. But I didn’t care. Because as it turns out, it wasn’t “Too Late, Baby,” and I was going to be “Loved Tomorrow,” and God’s grace was not “Far Away” and life truly, truly was “Beautiful” ,,, and “I Had a Friend.”

I will never forget that experience … when I had the opportunity of Tapping Tapestry.

And I learned that day something I know to this very moment–that prayers have value. Bible reading is intriguing, but until spirituality is released creatively through human talent and made into something tangible–something we can understand–it is merely a promise instead of a reality. Since then I have written songs, plays, symphonies and movies to try to dissolve God into an elixir that can be drunk deeply by humankind. We are not supernatural. But we are fully capable of receiving the natural in a creative, super way.

So thank you to Carole King for allowing herself to be a vessel, taking real emotion and passing it through her talent and delivering it to this pilgrim, who was broken and nearly defeated. Because Carole is right.

 People are gonna treat you better. You’re gonna find out–yes you will–that you’re beautiful … as you feel.

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Jonathan wrote the gospel/blues anthem, Spent This Time, in 1985, in Guaymas, Mexico. Take a listen:

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To see books written by Jonathan, click the link below! You can peruse and order if you like!

http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm