Advice From Dads for Father’s Day

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Dadvice for Father’s Day

Father’s Day cards will be opened tomorrow, so it seems apropos to begin today with a Hallmark-worthy thought from Mark Twain who famously observed: “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”

More recently, classical pianist Charles Wadworth expanded on Twain’s quip, noting: “By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.”

Or a daughter.

My friend Barry Kibrick, host of the Emmy-winning PBS book-talk show “Between the Lines,” once told me of raising his two sons: “I never worried about over-praising them and building up their self-esteem too much because there are plenty of people in the world who will try to tear them down.”

Author Jan Hutchins had a similarly wise dad, sharing: “When I was a kid, my father told me every day, ‘You’re the most wonderful boy in the world, and you can do anything you want to.’ ”

Clarence Budington Kelland, a 20th century novelist who once described himself as “the best second-rate writer in America,” made a first-rate compliment about his own father: “He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

Best-selling essayist Robert Fulghum put it this way: “Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.”

American inventor Charles Kettering likewise advised, “Every father should remember one day his son will follow his example, not his advice.”

From attribution unknown comes this pearl: “One night a father overheard his son pray: ‘Dear God, Make me the kind of man my Daddy is.’ Later that night, the father prayed, ‘Dear God, Make me the kind of man my son wants me to be.’ ”

The rock band Yellowcard offers this lovely lyric about the power of a dad as a role model: “Father I will always be / that same boy who stood by the sea / and watched you tower over me / now I’m older I wanna be the same as you.”

Hall of Fame baseball player Harmon Killebrew apparently had a Hall of Fame Dad, the son recalling: “My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass.’ Dad would reply, ‘We’re not raising grass – we’re raising boys.’ ”

A great attitude for dads of daughters as well, naturally.

Speaking of girls, John Mayer strikes the right chord with these lyrics: “Fathers, be good to your daughters. You are the god and the weight of her world.”

Getting further to the heart of the matter, John Wooden, who believed “love” is the most important word in the English language, said: “The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.”

From another basketball coach, the late Jim Valvano: “My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person – he believed in me.”

My friend and mentor Wayne Bryan, father of doubles legends Mike and Bob who are even better people than they are tennis players, advises parents: “Shout your praise to the rooftops and if you must criticize, drop it like a dandelion. On second thought, don’t criticize at all.”

In closing is a home-run thought from Hall of Fame singles hitter Wade Boggs: “Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Advice: Chase Butterflies

STRAW_CoverWoody’s new book STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter is available for Pre-Order HERE NOW! In time for the holidays!

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My Your Heart Go Aflutter in New Year

Chase butterflies.

When asked recently to write a brief essay on the topic of “A Letter Of Advice To My 21-Year-Old Self,” that was my answer in a nutshell. Chase butterflies.

I will soon explain more fully.1butterfly

But first let me say that chasing butterflies also seems timely advice, for anyone of any age, as we begin our 2016 journey around the sun.

Even though spring is yet a far ways off, the turning of the calendar pages from the old year to the new always brings to my mind a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. The caterpillar’s past has been shed and left behind; the world is anew and bright and full of promise.

Moreover, most butterflies emerge in the morning – again, the image of a new year’s fresh beginning. Indeed, New Year resolutions are goals for a personal metamorphosis of sorts.

But my advice to chase butterflies is more than metaphorical.

Remember in your youth when you raced after Monarchs with a butterfly net? There are few images of girlhood or boyhood more carefree.

Perhaps you did not even catch any butterflies. That didn’t even matter because the joy was in the running, in the sport of it, in the zig-zagging through a field until you were out of breath – the breathlessness, in part, from laughing at your “failure” to catch the elusive fluttering prey.

Lesson from the child: when is the last time as an adult you didn’t let “failure” get you down and instead happily laughed it off?

Yes, we would all do well to pursue our adult passions with this same sense of joy and play as we did racing barefooted in the grass with a cheesecloth net-on-a-stick in our hands.

Chasing butterflies also means embracing things that scare you – things that make your stomach flutter with nervousness.

As I wrote in that letter to my 21-year-old college self: “Remember the swarm of butterflies doing cartwheels in your stomach the first time you asked out that gorgeous girl you are now dating? Spoiler alert, Woody, that works out marvelously even 34 years later!”

The butterflies of trying new things and taking chances should not be avoided. The riskier thing, truly, is to remain inside a safe cocoon. As the Roman poet Virgil noted, “Fortune favors the bold.”

Fortune favors butterfly chasers, I say.

Or as Mark Twain so wisely put it: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

And, he might have well added, do things that make the butterflies in your belly dance.

Eleanor Roosevelt knew this, famously advising: “Do one thing every day that scares you.”1Bold

If the word “scares” scares you, keep in mind that “frightening” is a close cousin of “exciting.” So when a new challenge or unchartered adventure or out-of-your-comfort-zone opportunity gives you butterflies, run (BEGINITAL)towards(ENDITAL) it not from it!

Throw off your bowlines and learn a new language. Take guitar lessons. Or golf lessons. Enroll in a painting class. Sign up for volunteer work.

Train for a marathon. Learn to surf. Climb Mount Whitney.

Start writing that novel you have long felt you had inside you. Ask someone on a date – or accept the invite.

Join Toastmasters and tackle your fear of public speaking. Tackle a career change from the safe job you have, but doesn’t excite you, to the one of your dreams.

Travel. Explore. Go sailing. Go for it!

I closed my letter to my younger self with John Wooden’s “7-Point Creed,” which I consider to be concise wisdom of great breadth and depth:

Be true to yourself.

Make each day your masterpiece.

Help others.

Drink deeply from good books.

Make friendship a fine art.

Build a shelter against a rainy day.

Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings every day.

And, I concluded, add this eighth point: Chase butterflies.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden&Me_cover_PRCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

 

Column: Masterpiece Grads

New Grads, Create A Masterpiece Day (And Repeat)

Dear Class of 2015, I am honored to have been invited (albeit by myself) to address you here today.

Michelangelo, when asked how he had created one of his masterpiece sculptures, replied simply: “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”1angel

Creating your own masterpiece life, dear graduates, as you journey forward requires a similar process: You must see the angel – your passion – and then set it free.

For Michelangelo, this meant chipping away the pieces of marble that did not look like the angel or the horse or David. In our lives, this means chipping away the distractions and challenges and even the negative people who are preventing us from achieving our dreams.

In addition to being sculptors, you are also painters who create your masterpiece by adding brushstokes of color to the canvas. In other words, by adding determination and patience and love, to name just three key hues.

For good reason my dear mentor John Wooden advised focusing on creating your masterpiece day and not your masterpiece life. A masterpiece sculpture is created one chisel strike at a time; a masterpiece painting one brushstroke at a time; a masterpiece novel one keystroke at a time. So is a masterpiece life – private and professional – created one masterful day at a time, one after another, until they add up to masterpiece weeks, months, years.

To focus on a masterpiece life, or even a masterpiece year, is too daunting. Better to keep in mind this additional wisdom from Coach Wooden: “Little things add up to big things.”

A parable about a starfish emphasizes the big power of little acts. It was a beautiful Southern California morning and a beachcomber was walking along the sand that was littered with kelp and driftwood from a violent storm the night before. In the distance he noticed a man bend down to pick something up and then toss it into the ocean.

Every few steps, the man repeated this calisthenic: stop, bend, stand, toss. But what was he throwing, the beachcomber wondered: Driftwood sticks? Broken seashells? Skipping stones?

As the two morning walkers neared each other, the beachcomber finally realized the man was picking up starfish that, by the hundreds, had been washed ashore by the violent storm’s high surf and left stranded.

The beachcomber could not help but laugh at the other man’s futile efforts. “You’re just wasting your time,” he said. “There are too far many starfish for you to make a difference before they die.”1gradpic

“Maybe,” the man replied as he gently tossed another starfish into the waves. “But to this one I’m making a world of difference.”

As you venture out into the world, Class of 2015, keep an eye out for “starfish” who need your help.

Before closing, I would like to share a passage near the end of Ray Bradbury’s classic novel, Fahrenheit 451: “Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.”

These words remind me of a poem by my grandfather Ansel, handwritten on the title page of his medical college textbook Modern Surgery and dated Oct. 1, 1919, less than a year before Bradbury was born:

“The worker dies, but the work lives on / Whether a picture, a book, or a clock

“Ticking the minutes of life away / For another worker in metal or rock

“My work is with children and women and men / Not iron, not brass, not wood

“And I hope when I lay my stethoscope down / That my Chief will call it good.”

By finding your passion and work that you want to live on, dear graduates, and by creating your masterpiece day, over and again, in the end your Chief will call it good.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”