“I Wish You Enough” (Dr. James Sutton)

I’ve heard of this concept before, “I wish you enough,” but it seemed to have more impact on me this morning when I received it from my friend, Jim Gentil, in Austin, Texas. The piece really stands as a mandate for us not to wish the world for our children and our loved ones, because a wish like that could destroy them. So think about how we might simply wish “enough” for them.

And thanks, Jim. –JDS

A mother and her adult daughter were saying their good-byes at the security gate as the daughter prepared to fly home.

“I love you, and I wish you enough,” the mother said.

“Mom, our life together has been more than enough,” the daughter replied. “Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, also.”

After the daughter left, the mother walked over to the window were I was seated. She was visibly upset. “Did you ever say good-bye to someone, knowing it would be forever?” she asked me softly.

Yes, I have,” I replied. “Was this one of those good-byes?” I asked, pointing down the concourse.

She nodded, then added, “She lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and … well, the reality is that her next trip back likely will be for my funeral.”

“When you were saying good-bye, I believe I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”

She began to smile. “That’s a wish that’s been handed down from other generations; my parents used to say it to everyone.” She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail; then she smiled even more.

“When we said, ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.” Then, turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire life to forget them.###

GOOSE SENSE (Dr. James Sutton)

As tough as it might be to shed a reputation for being everything from silly to not-so-smart, the goose also stands as an example of some qualities that most folks would stand in line to acquire.

Even a long, slow line.

Take efficiency, for example. Wild geese fly in a “V” formation for a reason as they move to and from warmer climates. In that “V” arrangement, each bird creates an uplift for the one immediately following it. The result: The “V” formation adds at least 71% more flying range than if each bird took the trip on its own.

Yep, there’s quite a bit we can learn (and share) from a flock of flying geese. They make sense … Goose Sense.

GOOSE TIP #1:

When we work at making it easier for those who follow us, even difficult tasks get done more efficiently.

Whenever a bird drops away from the formation and encounters the effects of the increase in wind resistance, it is usually quick to return to its place in the group.

GOOSE TIP #2:

Encouragement always helps.

When geese fly in formation, they honk to encourage those up front to keep up their speed and strength.

GOOSE TIP #3:

No one person should have to do the tough jobs all the time. It pays to take turns.

Wild geese understand that fatigue is part of life, and they handle it as such. Whenever the lead goose in formation gets tired, it drops to the back and lets another fly point.

GOOSE TIP #4:

Stand by your friends.

Whenever a goose in formation becomes sick or wounded and has to leave the group, two others will follow it down to offer help and protection. They will stay with their friend until it dies or until it is able to fly again. They will then set out to catch up with their group, or they will join up with another flock.###

 

A Few Thoughts on Courage and Patriotism (Dr. James Sutton)

Since John McCain passed away last Saturday, I’ve been wanting to share my thoughts of my respect for him, but really couldn’t put them into words. I’m still struggling with it, I suppose.

Especially as a Vietnam vet, I was always moved by what he and the other POWs went through during their captivity in Hanoi for all those years. But it took on new meaning to me when Bobbie and I became friends with retired Navy Captain Jerry Coffee. We met as members of the National Speakers Association.

Jerry was a POW in the Hanoi Hilton for seven years and nine days. His book on that experience (“Beyond Survival,” published by Putnam), and what he learned from it, was a real eye-opener. Jerry has shared his story from the platform, but, more than that, his message always became personal to everyone in the audience. As he shared many, many times, “We all face adversity at some point; how we handle it matters.”

While in prison in North Vietnam, the POWs followed the chain of command. This was strongly against prison rules, so the senior officers had to be discrete while setting policy and issuing orders. Because of their seniority, these men were set aside for additional punishment.

One of them was Brigadier General Robbie Risner, the most senior POW at the Hanoi Hilton. He was a celebrated hero and top ace in Korea; he had been featured on the cover of Time magazine. That bought him a lot of pain and misery in prison, including ten months of solitary confinement in complete and total darkness. (He later said he held on to his sanity by exercising.)

The highest ranking naval officer was Vice Admiral James Stockdale. He and his wife, Sybil, wrote a book about their experiences at the time, “In Love and War.” It was made into a movie; James Woods played Stockdale.

Stockdale set a model for resistance. On one occasion, when told he would be interviewed by a film crew the next morning, he beat his face with a wooden stool until he was so disfigured he could not be used for that propaganda film. In defiance of the severe and sometimes fatal torture POWs were receiving, he inflicted a near-mortal wound on himself. He was revived by the enemy before he bled to death, but he had made his point. Things weren’t exactly easy for POWs after that, but the treatment of prisoners did improve. Stockdale ultimately was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor by President Gerald Ford. Fitting.

I realize that, in all his years of service, McCain’s five and a half years in captivity were but a small part of what he stood for and accomplished. But I do believe experiences like those five and a half years can serve to help us discern who we are and guide us to a purpose that can live long after we are gone.

2%-The Winner’s Edge (Dr. James Sutton)

It’s post time at the track. The sun is shining warmly and a soft breeze wanders through the crowd. The air is charged with anticipation: a million-dollar purse is on the line.

The horses settle in the gate. The starter pauses, then …

“And they’re off!”

The jockeys work for position as the thoroughbreds take the first turn mid billows of dust. The pack thins as they approach the second turn.

In the final stretch it’s a two-horse race. Neck and neck they approach the wire. Man and mount strain for that final burst that creates a winner.

PHOTO FINISH

It’s a photo finish. The winning horse gets a million dollars. (Actually the owner of the horse gets the cash; I suppose the horse gets an extra ration of oats or something.) Second place takes home $100,000.

On this day, as evaluated by the assigned purses, the winner of the race is ten times more valuable than the second-place horse.

Question: Is the winner ten times smarter, stronger and faster than the $100,000 animal?

Of course not! Okay, then what really separated first place from second?

Inches. That’s all; just a few inches.

THE 2% DIFFERENCE

Do inches make a difference? Apparently they do in a horse race.

And in life as well. There are many times when success in life is very much like a horse race. The difference between a marginally successful individual and the one who hits it big is often that inch or two at the wire.

Translated into effort, the difference is only 2%. Research has indicated, over and over again, that just 2% more desire, enthusiasm and effort can bring ten times the results.

So what percentage of the population will ever realize the benefits of the 2% edge? You guessed it; about 2% (or less).

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

What about you? Can you crank it up just 2% more? You don’t have to win by five lengths, three lengths or even one length.

Just a nose is enough.###

The Trouble Tree (Dr. James Sutton)

The truth is, some folks manage their troubles and problems better than others. Here’s a short story about one person’s way of not spreading his troubles on his family. It makes a great point regarding how we could exercise a similar skill, if we really cared to do it. Thanks to Jim Gentil of Austin, Texas, for sharing this powerful little story with me many years ago.

………………………

The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a very rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, then his electric saw quit. As if that wasn’t enough, his ancient pickup truck refused to start.

When I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree and touched the tips of the branches with both hands.

As he opened the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles as he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.

Later, he walked me to my car. When we passed the tree, my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen earlier.

“Oh, that’s my Trouble Tree,” he replied. “I know I can’t help having troubles on the job, but one thing is for sure: troubles don’t belong in the house with my wife and children. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home. Then, in the morning, I pick them up again.

“Funny thing is,” he smiled, “when I come out in the morning to pick ’em up, there ain’t nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.” ###

“If Your Kids are Okay …” (Dr. James Sutton)

This week my mind was brought to focus on my appreciation of first-responders and the awesome job they often do with our children and grandchildren. It’s a pretty helpless feeling to place your offspring in the hands of a stranger, but that’s what we do when it’s someone trained help them, even save their lives.

Those instances are rare (fortunately), but when we can’t do it ourselves, our gratitude for the training and skill of firefighters, law enforcement folks and, of course, medical specialists, can’t be expressed in words alone. This is precisely where I found myself, as a grandfather, earlier this week.s

TWINS!
Twins, a boy and a girl (our fifth and sixth grandchild) were born in the wee hours of Sunday morning, April 8th, 2018. They were born almost 15 weeks premature, so are being watched constantly in neonatal care at the hospital. They are in the excellent hands of nurses, doctors … and God.

Each baby is in a separate room, as each room is filled up with monitors, ventilators, feeding systems, special lamps, etc. It’s a pretty intimidating and scary set-up at first glance, but it is reassuring to know that this equipment in the hands of skilled specialists has worked many, many miracles. We are SO GRATEFUL.

(That’s our grandson’s room in the photo.)

It was encouraging to see our grand-babies kicking, stretching and squirming, especially considering they had gotten off to a rather difficult start in the world (not to mention the stress it put on Mom and Dad at the time). As I write this, it’s about 62 hours since they arrived, and they are progressing as they should, thanks to skilled care and heartfelt prayer.

“IF YOUR KIDS ARE OKAY …”
It all reminds me of something my father-in-law once said to me: “If your kids are okay, YOU’RE okay!” AMEN to that.

And it never matters how young or old your kids are … “If your kids are okay, YOU’RE Okay.”

“How Long?” (John Wooden)

There’s no question that the late John Wooden remains a legend in college men’s basketball. From 1964 to 1975, he coached the UCLA Bruins to 10 National Championships, seven of them consecutive. But many folks agree (and I’m one of them) that Coach Wooden was even more a legend as a human being, which may be one reason why he was graced to live just a few months short of age 100 years.

Coach always shared it was his aim to teach what his father had taught him: “Be true to yourself; help others; make each day your masterpiece; make friendships a fine art; drink deeply from good books (especially the Bible); build a shelter against a rainy day; give thanks for your blessings; and pray for guidance every day.”

I had the pleasure and opportunity to work with Coach Wooden on a book project in the late 90s. It was a collection of stories about grandparents. (Grand-Stories was compiled and edited by Ernie Wendell of Durham, North Carolina; I was the publisher). Coach Wooden was one of the first to send in a story; he submitted it in his own handwriting. —JDS

………………………………..

When I took my great-granddaughter, Lori Nicholson, shopping on her 11th birthday, the following conversation ensued as we reached the Northridge Mall:

“PaPa, I know it is hard for you to walk, and it’s not fun to watch me shop, so please sit here on this bench and wait for me.”

“That will be fine, honey.”

“Good. Now don’t worry about me. I can run, and I can yell, and I won’t talk to strangers.”

“Fine, honey. I’ll wait for you right here. Don’t rush; I will enjoy watching the people.”

She returned after a while with some packages and said, “There are some other stores at the other end, and there are benches there where you can rest and wait.”

We moved slowly down the mall until we reached the area where she wished to go. Then she said, “Sit here, PaPa. I won’t be gone very long. Don’t worry about me. I can run, and I can yell, and I won’t talk to strangers. However, PaPa, I do need some more money.

Some time after we had left the mall and were driving home, she said, “PaPa, how long are you going to live?”

“That’s an odd question, honey,” I replied. “I can’t really answer that. People are living longer today, and I’ve already outlived my parents by over 20 years. Why would you ask?”
“I hope you live a long, long time, PaPa, but at least for 5 more years.”

“Why 5 years, Lori?” I questioned.

“Because I’m 11 today, and in 5 years I’ll be 16. I want you to take me to get my driver’s permit!” ###

 

Permission was granted by Friendly Oaks Publications to post this story and the illustration. The artist is Tim Wiegenstein.

Life Lessons Learned in a Texas Oil Field (Dr. James Sutton)

Thoughts of Fathers Day (2017) still bring back memories of how my dad once helped me manage a frightening and emotionally extreme situation. Although he was not a professional educator, my father still stands as one of the best teachers I ever had. –JDS

……………………

My first driving lesson came close to killing me and my father.

In late junior high and early high school, I had a summer job of working with my father in the oilfields south of San Antonio. On a slow day, we piled into Dad’s company vehicle (a Dodge) for my very first driving lesson.

Collision Course

I lost control of the clutch, and we lurched into a collision course with a battery of oil storage tanks. As I panicked, my right leg stiffened; my foot jammed the accelerator to the floor.

It was all over; there wasn’t a shred of doubt in my mind about it.

But Dad didn’t panic. He quickly cut the ignition and turned the wheel just enough to avoid hitting the tanks. We plowed safely into the soft, sandy bank of a water pit.

He was not upset; I WAS. I vowed I would never, never, ever again occupy the driver’s seat. I was done … finished!

“Jimmy, what’s this car doing right at this moment?’ he asked patiently, certainly sensing my panic.

“Well, uh, well … nothing, Dad. The car’s not doing anything right now.”

“That’s right. And it’s NOT going to do anything. Unless you make something happen, this car simply will sit here until it’s a pile of rust.”

Lessons Learned

We continued the lesson. I learned to drive that day, but I also learned two things that would follow me for life. I learned that Fred Sutton, although not a professional educator, was an excellent teacher. I also learned that knowledge, confidence in one’s skills, and meaningful relationships (certainly including spiritual relationships) are powerful antidotes for whatever the world might throw at any of us.

I’ve often thought how easy it would be for a parent to scream out or yell at a son or daughter caught up in such a situation, especially when that parent is also frightened. Who could blame them; most of us have “been there.” It would be a pretty natural response.

I believe Dad intuitively knew that lecturing me about my driving mistakes would have served no real purpose. True to that thought, he never said another word about it to me. If he figured I had learned that lesson well enough with no need for additional reminders, he was correct.

Over the years, I have tried to follow his example, but not perfectly, by any means. Put another way, here’s what I believe it means:

It’s easy to be part of the problem, but it’s so much better to be part of the solution.

Dad passed away in 1998 after a gallant struggle with cancer. Since then, there have been many times when I wished I could climb back into that old Dodge for just one more lesson from a great teacher.

 

A nationally recognized (and now mostly retired) child and adolescent psychologist, author and speaker, Dr. James Sutton is the founder and host of The Changing Behavior Network.

 

A Father’s Day Tribute, 2009

Here’s a YouTube upload of a song I wrote following the loss of my father, Fred Sutton, in 1998. The lyrics of it are in an earlier Father’s Day post on this site. This posting is my Father’s Day, 2009, tribute to him. More than that, it’s for all the fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers that have lovingly guided our lives in so many ways.

Thanks, Dad. Thanks for always being there for me.

James Sutton, Psychologist http://www.docspeak.com