Do you always have to be right?

          Are you willing to jeopardize a friendship just to prove you are right? Arguably there are times when it is okay to be right, such as stopping someone from putting diesel in a car that takes gasoline or correcting a phone number.

          What about something simple? One of my best friends’ wife was adamant about the sex of Lassie, the TV dog icon from the 50’s. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that my friend was wrong, but what would be the sense in proving I was right?

          It would make her angry (and her pride would be damaged) and because she was so sure that she was right, it would damage our friendship and harm the relationship I have with her husband. In essence showing her how wrong she was would have been fruitless.

          What harm, then, was there in not arguing about who was right and who was wrong about something so simplistic? None! Pick you battles! Does it matter so much to always being right? And there are times when being right, with the wrong attitude, is wrong. No one likes to hear “I told you so!”

          Sometimes people say the wrong word and an argument ensues because neither party wants to back down. A young man was talking with his father-in-law and said the word “pica” instead of “elite” for the print size on a typewriter.

          The older man became insistent about the word swap but the more he argued his point, the more stubborn the young man became. The younger man was wrong because he said the wrong word and the father-in-law was wrong because of his attitude – even though he was absolutely correct. It became heated and both individuals walked away angry with each other.

          Did it really mean that much? Would it change someone’s life? Was the universe in jeopardy of collapsing because of the difference between pica and elite? Do people always have to be that exact?

With the advent of the digital watch many young people have not learned to approximate time. Instead of saying “It’s quarter to three” they will say, “It’s two forty-seven”. Invariably someone else will say, “I’ve got two forty-eight, your watch must be slow.”

          Granted, if an appointment was at exactly two forty-five, it would be okay to know the exact time, but if a person only wants to know the approximate time, it is also perfectly okay to say, ‘ten till” or “twenty after”.

          So then, it’s okay not to always be right – you might save a treasured relationship.

Why do I tell stories?

          Have you ever given someone advice or told them a personal story that you hoped would help them? Many times in the counseling field they suggest that you don’t use personal stories with clients so they won’t use them as leverage. While that is practical and understandable, I often use my own stories because I may have walked where that person walked or I have felt what they have felt.

          I always enjoyed sharing my life stories with the young people I supervised in juvenile corrections. I would usually preface it with the statement, “Let me tell you a story . . .” Their eyes would roll and some would groan (mostly for show for the other members in the group – can’t show any weakness you know), but then they would all lean in to hear the story.

          I am a good story teller and most of my stories had a point – a life lesson if you’ll pardon the pun. It is a way of communicating and remarkably many of my young friends remembered the stories!

          How do I know? I have been out of youth corrections for over 10 years but I still meet some of my former charges in stores and gas stations. Many times they are anxious to show me their family, new car, or brag about the job they have. They are truly glad to see me and to let me know they are doing all right.

Then they will say something like, “remember that time . . .?” or “I remember a story you told and it helped me.”

          I know that there are some who didn’t listen to the lesson that I and others invested into them because I see them frequently in police blotters in the paper or their mug shot on the news. That could be depressing except for a lesson I learned very early on working in the prison – don’t count your losses because they will overwhelm you! Count the wins, the successes.

          So when one of my young people comes up and shakes my hand or hugs me I know that some little portion of what I told them stuck! I had input into a young life and hopefully a life lesson will be borrowed by them to pass down to their family.

And when they start to call me “Mr. Smith” out of resApect, I tell them, “You can call me ‘Mario’.” You should see the look of pride come in their eyes!

So remember, whether it is with your own children, or people you work with, you can input your own life lessons into them. Who knows what the return will be?

Once you find out what motivates you, it no longer controls you.

            Here’s how the story begins. As a young child growing up, I had an insatiable hunger that would wake me up in the middle of the night. I would go into the kitchen and eat anything from a half dozen pieces of bread, cookies, p-nut butter in a spoon, left over chicken or roast, whatever was easy to get.

            As I grew older and ate more, I was often accused of “stealing from the family” or just being plain disobedient. When my mother (as dad was usually out to sea or stationed away) caught me, the punishment varied between spankings, eating alone in my room, going to my room for the day (no toys or books!) or no TV.

            Yet it seemed that nothing stood in my way of wanting to get something to eat. Getting away with getting up was worth the price. My mother would ask me why I got up in the middle of the night to get food and at one point I actually told her that there was a little voice telling me to get something to eat! Boy, did that bring on a tirade about “hearing voices”!

            This habit of getting up in the middle of the night and eating continued even after I left home to join the Air Force. They used to have these machines in the barracks that sold cup of soups, beef stew and chicken ‘n dumplings. You can bet I went through some quarters, nickels, and dimes!

            Through my early college days and even when I got married I would still wake up in the early hours of the morning and face an overwhelming urge to eat, eat, EAT!

            What could be driving me? I wasn’t hungry, but there was this compelling drive to get up and eat. My wife tried to help me by waking up with me and telling me I didn’t really need to eat 3 or 4 pieces of chicken, but that did not dissuade me. I was 30 years old and miserable because of this habit I could not seem to break.

            When I turned 30 I hurt my back working in the oil fields of Louisiana and was required to undergo a back surgery to fix my disc. During the recovery (6 months of being off from work and staying home) my wife and I happened to go visit my folks up in New Hampshire. The family would sit around and tell stories of growing up here and there as military families do.

            At one point my mother told this story. “When Mario was 2 until he was 4, when he got up in the middle of the night, like little boys do, we always left him a glass of milk, a sandwich, a piece of chicken from supper, in the kitchen because he had to pass through the kitchen to get to the bathroom.”

            The light bulb in my brain went off! “Don’t you understand what you did?” I asked them.

            “What are you talking about?” they answered.

            “You took a 2 year old brain and told it, ‘whenever you get up in the middle of the night, you get something to eat.’ You programmed that 2 year old brain for two years that it was okay to get food in the middle of the night!”

            Of course they did not understand at all what they had done. How could something that happened 28 years before affect me right then? To my parents it was nothing more than psychological claptrap. Who ever heard of such a thing?

            Once you find out what motivates you, it no longer controls you. Once you know what that unseen driving force is, you do not have to give it control over you. How do I know this?

            Since the fall of 1982 I can count on one hand the number of times I have gotten up in the middle of the night and raided the refrigerator. Was it hard? You bet it was! Those first few weeks after we returned home was so hard. I would wake up knowing I had food that I could get to and eat.

            However, as time passed by, that desire, that drive to eat stopped. That persistent little voice telling me to get up and eat got so quiet that I could not hear it any more.

            So my life lesson? Once you find out what motivates you, it no longer controls you. Now you can give in and let it control you – or you can tell that voice, “No! I am in charge of my life, not you!”

            When I shared this life experience with youth, I would tell them to imagine the most tricked out rig they could imagine. All the right colors, spinners on the wheels, the hottest engine on the road, the best sound system you could afford. Then once they had a mental picture of their pimped out ride, they would give me the keys to their car and let me drive it away.

            “That’s messed up man!” “That was my ride!”

            Can you see the lesson? I sure hope you do. So what is motivating you? Fear, anger, suspicion? Down in the recesses of your mind, what seemingly has control over you? Find out the motivation and then take back control.

Perceptions

            A woman told her pastor this story. She had gone to a mall to do some shopping and decided to go to the food court for a soda pop and a candy bar. After getting her snack she looked around for an empty table but every one was occupied.

          She finally saw one that only had one person at it, a young man. She asked if she could sit and he gestured toward the empty chair across from him. She sipped her drink and picked up her candy bar, opened it and took a bite then set the candy back on the table.

          To her surprise the young man picked up the candy bar and took a big bite out it! She was horrified and embarrassed. Looking the man straight in the eye she took another bite from the candy bar and placed the remainder back on the table in front of him.

          Again he picked up the candy bar, ate the rest of it and stared back at her! She told her pastor that she was so shocked by what he had done that she stood up, glared at the man, smashed flat a donut he had in front of him and stalked off.

          When she got outside to her car she reached inside her purse to get her keys and pulled out her candy bar she had put in there after buying it.

          Funny story, but how true when it comes to perceptions. Sometimes what we see, hear or physically feel isn’t the total truth.

Remember the story of the 5 blind men describing an elephant?

          The first grabbed the trunk and told the others, “It’s a snake! I can feel the muscles as it squirms and tries to squeeze my arm!”

          The second, who was holding the tail, said, “No, you’re wrong, it is a rope. See, I can feel the fraying at the end of it.”

          The next man placed his hands on the side of the elephant. “What are you talking about? It is obviously a wall! It is wider than I can reach and almost taller than I am!”

          The fourth man kneeling on the ground holding onto one of its legs stated, “You are all mistaken! It is definitely a tree as I have my arms around the trunk!”

          The last man, running his hands all around the ears of the gentle giant told his friends, “It is a fan! Feel how large and flat it is and how it sways back and forth?”

          Instead of seeing the bigger picture, they were each dependent solely upon their own limited perceptions and refused to accept anything the others had to say.

          Do not be limited by your own perceptions! Many family arguments start because of perceptions and not looking at things from the other person’s view point. Be open to other people’s ideas and opinions. Even though you disagree with it, looking from their point of view might give you a better understanding of that person and strengthen your relationship with them.

Adversity

          How do we handle adversity? Should we be like a duck and let it just shed off of our backs like water? "Nothing will bother me!" Maybe we can hold on to it and let it rule and control our lives and then complain about how unfair life is and even pull out the “Why me God?”

          My wife and I had a young friend who was taken very early in her life (30’s) and when we met her one of her thoughts was “Why not me?” She often expressed to us and others “What makes me different or special?” Her signature on e-mails and boards said it all, “Every day above the ground is a good day!”

          Here she was having been diagnosed with breast cancer at an extremely early time in her life, undergoing treatments, deserted by her husband, facing life with an attitude that said, “Give it your best shot.”

          She refused to be defined by her circumstances or her illness. Her passing was a harsh reality for friends and family. Most of us reacted with stunned disbelief. How could she be gone so quickly? She had done nothing to deserve this, yet, her thought, “Why not me?” gave us some comfort.

          So now, facing my own adversity (an aneurysm on a major artery) , I do not question God, “Why me?” instead like my friend, I say, “Why not me?” So is there something to be learned from this?

          Yes! My wife said it this way, maybe the reason I haven’t been able the last couple months to do my physical therapy or exercise like I want is because I might have caused myself irreparable harm! When the doctor told me of my condition he instructed me not to lift anything over 5 pounds, no physical exertion (he does realize that just standing up weighing 300+ pounds is physical exertion?) and to take “two chill pills” he was telling me this was a serious issue.

          Welcome to adversity Mario! I would have never thought that the first words from my doctor’s phone call would be, “Are you sitting down?”

          Yet as my wife reminded me, “We are survivors!” Yes I am! I will not let this define me or dictate to others who I am! I am still Mario, the man who has a good time where ever he goes. With the strength and support of friends and family we will make it through this and when we come through this adversity we will be the stronger for it.

         

          So, then, what will you do about adversity?

Euphoric recall

          Today’s lesson is two words – euphoric recall. This is a term we use in the drug and alcohol field and it simply means only remembering the good and not the bad about past things. It’s like that old saw that says “you can never go back home.”

          I was talking with a friend some years ago about when we were stationed together in Spain and it was our early Christian experience. It was such a wonderful time for me discovering who Christ was and developing my relationship with Him and the brothers and sisters in Zaragoza.

          I was talking about wanting to go back to that time frame and how I wanted to gain back that feeling of newness. My friend told me, more or less, “you can’t back, you can only go forward.” It’s like people who are still living in the past, dreaming of the days when their team won championships or missing a loved one who has been gone many years (I still expect for my phone to ring and hear my dad’s voice).

          We often hear more and more people talking about the “good old days”. Yes there were good times and probably great times, but we cannot “live” there. It’s okay to visit but remember not to make your life all about that time frame or events.

          That doesn’t mean we relegate those memories or events to the trash can. They are still our memories. But remember things weren’t perfect – just our memory of them. Treasure them, but don’t treat them as end all.

          Every day is a new adventure and there are things in this world that will amaze you about yourself, your family and friends. Look forward to making new memories in this world. Start a diary (if you already haven’t) and just write down your impressions of the day or event.

          Why? There will be times when you are blue or just feeling despondent and just like the song from the “Sound of Music”, “My Favorite Things” – “When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I only remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad!”

          Yes, reading those stories you’ve written, looking at photos or movies and listening to your family reminisce about things will cause euphoric recall and your bummer feelings will pass!

          Now let me tell you one other way of pulling yourself out of a deep blue funk (if you’re not familiar with that term ask someone from the 60’s generation). Put on your favorite music! I know that sounds strange but in this thing please trust me, a musician!

          As a minister I have found that putting on worship music for at least 20 minutes will do one of two things; you either turn off the music and stay in your funk (not a good move) or your attitude changes and you begin to look at life with a brighter outlook. Of course that doesn’t mean that the issues will go away, but your ability to handle and deal with them will be different because of your demeanor.

          So, then, I hope this wasn’t boring but maybe give you some insight into the human psyche! Hang in and hang on – you have a life time of new experiences coming your way.

In Honor of my youngest brother

This is the story of how my brother became known as "Fingers Guggenheim". It was Christmas season 1962 and Jonathan was just over a year old. We were living in Middletown, Rhode Island as Daddy was stationed at Newport.


For many years my aunt in New Orleans would send the family a big box of "turtles", chocolates with caramel that were absolutely divine! Mother would dole them out sparingly as a special treat to the household and making sure that no one wiped chocolate on their shirt, pants, or the rug (as if! I would lick the excess off of my finger tips and revel in the taste.).

The living room was decorated for Christmas with the tree, trimmings, the bookcase with the faux fireplace paper, the presents and the box of turtles under the tree. Lord help the person who even dared to look at the box of chocolates without Mothers' permission!

One early evening as we were eating dinner Mother asked the question of the day, "Where's the baby?" Slowly we all, Daddy, Mama, Michael, Mario and Julian, looked at each other and mentally counted the bodies. One, two, three, four, five and, and and?
 
Michael stood up and looked over the planter that separated the dining room from the living room. He started to laugh and point. All of us stood up, although the planter was almost too high for Julian and me to peer over so we looked around the corner, and there was a sight!

There sat Jonathan in front of the tree lit in all of its glory, with the top of the box pulled off, bouncing up and down on his diaper, chubby little hands raised in the "Praise the Lord!" style with his little fingers clenching and clutching the air. He was making wonderful sounds and his facial expression was worth a million dollars because he knew, "Mine! It's all mine! Chocolate! And it's all mine!"

Before he could execute the snatch and grab of the decade, Mama raced around the dining table, skirted past two of her sons and edged around the planter and grabbed the "baby"! "Come here Fingers Guggenheim!" she said as she pulled him off of the floor while Daddy put the lid back on the chocolates. With a look on his face that said it all, Jonathan knew he had missed the opportunity of a life time.

And that is how his nickname became "Fingers Guggenheim" or just "Finn" to the family that misses him so much now.

The moral of the story? Treasure those moments that define family as there will come a time when not everyone is there any more.