Part 20

If insistent fear attacks one, he must remind himself that the worst that can happen to him is not so bad as the state of the chronic coward and the hypochondriac. He must practice taking the chances that others do, and must learn to go through the dreaded experiences, not with his nervous system stimulated into undue tension, but with body and mind relaxed by such considerations as I have indicated.

The maxim is a useful aid in suggestion, but it should be carefully selected. Most children seem to be brought up on maxims which presuppose mental deficiency and constitutional carelessness. But the naturally over-thoughtful and too-conscientious child, the child to whom applies Sir John Lubbock's observation that the term "happy childhood" is sometimes a misnomer, needs no admonition to "Try, try again," and to "Never weary of well doing."

Among other sayings, whether of home manufacture or acquired, I have often found comfort in a suggestion first called to my attention by my friend, Dr. Maurice Richardson, who carries, I believe, Epictetus in his bag, but who does not despise the lesser prophets. One day when I was borrowing trouble about some prospective calamity, he said he always drew consolation from the old farmer's observation:

"Mebbe 'taint so!"

Much unintentional self-suggestion is conveyed in one's habitual method of expressing his attitude toward annoyances, thus: "That simply drives me wild." Suppose, now, one should try a little substitution; for example:

That \ drives me wild. Nothing /

(but that). I can stand anything (at all).

(not) (this) I can sleep in position. (---) (any)

The quieting effect is immediately perceptible.

Nor is the injurious effect of the explosive habit of speech limited to the person who indulges it. The other day a lady, apparently in no haste, sauntered into a station of the "Elevated" ahead of me, holding by the hand a small boy. The boy was enjoying himself immensely, gazing about him with the wide-awake, but calmly contemplative air peculiar to childhood. Suddenly the lady saw that a train was about to leave the station, and was seized by the not uncommon compulsion to take the last train instead of the next one. She hurried the boy across the platform only to meet the closed door of the departing train.

"Isn't that provoking!" she exclaimed. And the boy began to whimper.

Although the main object of this book is to call attention to the mental rather than the physical treatment of these states, I cannot forbear reminding the reader of certain routine measures which facilitate the desired improvement in mental attitude.

It is well to start the day with a quick plunge in cold water, that is, in water of the natural temperature excepting in the cold season, when the extreme chill may be taken off to advantage. A brisk rub with rough towels should follow. One should proceed immediately from the warm bed to the bath, and should not first "cool off." A few setting-up exercises (bending the trunk forward and back, sidewise, and with a twist) may precede the bath, and a few simple arm exercises follow it. A few deep breaths will inevitably accompany these procedures. When one returns to his room he no longer notices the chill in the air, and he has made a start toward accustoming himself to, and really enjoying, lower temperatures than he fancied he could stand at all.

Every healthy adult should walk at least two miles daily in the open. We have been forced to readjust our ideas as to the distance even an elderly person can walk without harm since a pedestrian of sixty-nine has, without apparent injury, covered over one thousand miles, over ordinary roads, at an average of fifty miles a day.

The day's work should be started with the resolution that every task shall be taken up in its turn, without doubts and without forebodings, that bridges shall not be crossed until they are reached, that the vagaries of others shall amuse and interest, not distress us, and that we will live in the present, not in the past or the future. We must avoid undertaking too much, and whatever we do undertake we must try not to worry as to whether we shall succeed. This only prevents our succeeding. We should devote all our efforts to the task itself, and remember that even failure under these circumstances may be better than success at the expense of prolonged nervous agitation.

"Rest must be complete when taken and must balance the effort in work--rest meaning often some form of recreation as well as the passive rest of sleep. Economy of effort should be gained through normal concentration--that is, the power of erasing all previous impressions and allowing a subject to hold and carry us, by dropping every thought or effort that interferes with it, in muscle, nerve, and mind." (Annie Payson Call, "Power Through Repose.")

The over-scrupulous and methodical individual who can neither sleep nor take a vacation until all the affairs of his life are arranged must remind himself that this happy consummation will not be attained in his lifetime. It behooves him, therefore, if he is ever to sleep, or if he is ever to take a vacation, to do it now, nor need he postpone indefinitely

"That blessed mood In which the burden of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world Is lightened."

XIX.

HOME TREATMENT (CONTINUED)

Happiness and success in life do not depend on circumstances, but on ourselves.

Sir John Lubbock.

The obsession to "arrive" is a fertile source of fret and worry. This habit of mind leads to frantic and impatient labor and blocks our pleasure at every point. The person who plays a game only to see who wins loses half the benefit of the recreation. Here are two ways of walking the half-mile to and from my office:

Suppose I start out with my mind on my destination, thinking only of what I shall do when I get there, and how I shall do it. This thought influences my whole body. I am all "keyed up," my muscles are tense, my breathing, even, is constricted and the walk does me comparatively little good.

Suppose, now, I decide I am making a mistake, and determine to live in the present. General relaxation follows, I take a deep breath, and begin to notice my surroundings. I may even observe the sky-line of the buildings I have passed daily for years without knowing they had a sky-line; my gait becomes free and life takes on a different aspect. I have taken a long step toward mental tranquility as well as gaining "power through repose."

One of the hardest obsessions to overcome is the unduly insistent habit of mind regarding orderliness and cleanliness. It is not undue to desire and practice a reasonable degree of these virtues, but when it gives one a "fit" to see a picture slightly off the level, and drives one "wild" to see a speck of dust, it is time to modify the ideal. This is the frame of mind which encourages worry over trifles. If one really wishes to lessen worry he must cultivate a certain degree of tolerance for what does not square with his ideas, even if it does violence to a pet virtue.

The careful housekeeper may object that so long as she can regulate her household to her liking, the habit of orderliness, even though extreme, causes her no worry. But it is only the hermit housekeeper who can entirely control her household. And further, the possessor of the over-orderly temperament, whether applied to housekeeping, business, or play (if he ever plays), is bound sooner or later to impinge his ideas of orderliness upon the domain of other peoples' affairs, in which his wishes cannot be paramount. In this event, at least, he will experience a worry only to be allayed by learning to stand something he does not like.

Worry about the mental condition is disastrous. The habit should be cultivated of taking the mind for what it is, and using it, wasting no time in vain regrets that it is not nimbler or more profound. Just as the digestion is impeded by solicitude, so the working of the brain is hampered by using the energy in worry which should be devoted directly to the task in hand. Children frequently worry because their memory is poor. It should be explained to them that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred apparent lack of memory is only lack of attention, and they should be urged to cease distracting the attention by wandering in the fields of idle speculation or in making frantic leaps to surmount imaginary obstacles.