Lead, kindly Light ...Keep thou my feet: I do not ask to seeThe distant scene; one step enough for me.At about the same time, a young man in uniform-somewhere in Europe-was learning thesame lesson. His name was Ted Bengermino, of 5716 Newholme Road, Baltimore,Maryland-and he had worried himself into a first-class case of combat fatigue."In April, 1945," writes Ted Bengermino, "I had worried until I had developed whatdoctors call a 'spasmodic transverse colon'-a condition that produced intense pain. If thewar hadn't ended when it did, I am sure I would have had a complete physicalbreakdown."I was utterly exhausted. I was a Graves Registration, Noncommissioned Officer for the94th Infantry Division. My work was to help set up and maintain records of all men killedin action, missing in action, and hospitalised. I also had to help disinter the bodies ofboth Allied and enemy soldiers who had been killed and hastily buried in shallow gravesduring the pitch of battle. I had to gather up the personal effects of these men and seethat they were sent back to parents or closest relatives who would prize these personaleffects so much. I was constantly worried for fear we might be making embarrassing andserious mistakes. I was worried about whether or not I would come through all this. Iwas worried about whether I would live to hold my only child in my arms-a son ofsixteen months, whom I had never seen. I was so worried and exhausted that I lostthirty-four pounds. I was so frantic that I was almost out of my mind. I looked at myhands. They were hardly more than skin and bones. I was terrified at the thought ofgoing home a physical wreck. I broke down and sobbed like a child. I was so shaken thattears welled up every time I was alone. There was one period soon after the Battle ofthe Bulge started that I wept so often that I almost gave up hope of ever being a normalhuman being again."I ended up in an Army dispensary. An Army doctor gave me some advice which hascompletely changed my life. After giving me a thorough physical examination, heinformed me that my troubles were mental. 'Ted', he said, 'I want you to think of yourlife as an hourglass. You know there are thousands of grains of sand in the top of thehourglass; and they all pass slowly and evenly through the narrow neck in the middle.Nothing you or I could do would make more than one grain of sand pass through thisnarrow neck without impairing the hourglass. You and I and everyone else are like thishourglass. When we start in the morning, there are hundreds of tasks which we feel thatwe must accomplish that day, but if we do not take them one at a time and let thempass through the day slowly and evenly, as do the grains of sand passing through thenarrow neck of the hourglass, then we are bound to break our own physical or mentalstructure.'"I have practised that philosophy ever since that memorable day that an Army doctorgave it to me. 'One grain of sand at a time. ... One task at a time.' That advice saved mephysically and mentally during the war; and it has also helped me in my present positionin business. I am a Stock Control Clerk for the Commercial Credit Company in Baltimore.I found the same problems arising in business that had arisen during the war: a score ofthings had to be done at once-and there was little time to do them. We were low instocks. We had new forms to handle, new stock arrangements, changes of address,opening and closing offices, and so on. Instead of getting taut and nervous, Iremembered what the doctor had told me. 'One grain of sand at a time. One task at atime.' By repeating those words to myself over and over, I accomplished my tasks in amore efficient manner and I did my work without the confused and jumbled feeling thathad almost wrecked me on the battlefield."One of the most appalling comments on our present way of life is that half of all thebeds in our hospitals are reserved for patients with nervous and mental troubles,patients who have collapsed under the crushing burden of accumulated yesterdays andfearful tomorrows. Yet a vast majority of those people would be walking the streetstoday, leading happy, useful lives, if they had only heeded the words of Jesus: "Have noanxiety about the morrow"; or the words of Sir William Osier: "Live in day-tightcompartments."You and I are standing this very second at the meeting-place of two eternities: the vastpast that has endured for ever, and the future that is plunging on to the last syllable ofrecorded time. We can't possibly live in either of those eternities-no, not even for onesplit second. But, by trying to do so, we can wreck both our bodies and our minds. Solet's be content to live the only time we can possibly live: from now until bedtime."Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall," wrote Robert LouisStevenson. "Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day. Anyone can livesweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, till the sun goes down. And this is all that life reallymeans."Yes, that is all that life requires of us; but Mrs. E. K. Shields, 815, Court Street,Saginaw, Michigan, was driven to despair-even to the brink of suicide-before shelearned to live just till bedtime. "In 1937, I lost my husband," Mrs. Shields said as shetold me her story. "I was very depressed-and almost penniless. I wrote my formeremployer, Mr. Leon Roach, of the Roach-Fowler Company of Kansas City, and got my oldjob back. I had formerly made my living selling books to rural and town school boards. Ihad sold my car two years previously when my husband became ill; but I managed toscrape together enough money to put a down payment on a used car and started out tosell books again."I had thought that getting back on the road would help relieve my depression; butdriving alone and eating alone was almost more than I could take. Some of the territorywas not very productive, and I found it hard to make those car payments, small as theywere."In the spring of 1938, I was working out from Versailles, Missouri. The schools werepoor, the roads bad; I was so lonely and discouraged that at one time I even consideredsuicide. It seemed that success was impossible. I had nothing to live for. I dreadedgetting up each morning and facing life. I was afraid of everything: afraid I could notmeet the car payments; afraid I could not pay my room rent; afraid I would not haveenough to eat. I was afraid my health was failing and I had no money for a doctor. Allthat kept me from suicide were the thoughts that my sister would be deeply grieved,and that I did not have enough money to pay my funeral expenses."Then one day I read an article that lifted me out of my despondence and gave me thecourage to go on living. I shall never cease to be grateful for one inspiring sentence inthat article. It said: 'Every day is a new life to a wise man.' I typed that sentence outand pasted it on the windshield of my car, where I saw it every minute I was driving. Ifound it wasn't so hard to live only one day at a time. I learned to forget the yesterdaysand to not-think of the tomorrows. Each morning I said to myself: 'Today is a new life.'"I have succeeded in overcoming my fear of loneliness, my fear of want. I am happy andfairly successful now and have a lot of enthusiasm and love for life. I know now that Ishall never again be afraid, regardless of what life hands me. I know now that I don'thave to fear the future. I know now that I can live one day at a time-and that 'Every dayis a new life to a wise man.'"Who do you suppose wrote this verse:Happy the man, and happy he alone,He, who can call to-day his own:He who, secure within, can say:"To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have liv'd to-day."Those words sound modern, don't they? Yet they were written thirty years before Christwas born, by the Roman poet Horace.One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put offliving. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon-instead ofenjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.Why are we such fools-such tragic fools?"How strange it is, our little procession of life I" wrote Stephen Leacock. "The child says:'When I am a big boy.' But what is that? The big boy says: 'When I grow up.' And then,grown up, he says: 'When I get married.' But to be married, what is that after all? Thethought changes to 'When I'm able to retire." And then, when retirement comes, helooks back over the landscape traversed; a cold wind seems to sweep over it; somehowhe has missed it all, and it is gone. Life, we learn too late, is in the living, in the tissueof every day and hour."The late Edward S. Evans of Detroit almost killed himself with worry before he learnedthat life "is in the living, in the tissue of every day and hour." Brought up in poverty,Edward Evans made his first money by selling newspapers, then worked as a grocer'sclerk. Later, with seven people dependent upon him for bread and butter, he got a jobas an assistant librarian. Small as the pay was, he was afraid to quit. Eight years passedbefore he could summon up the courage to start out on his own. But once he started, hebuilt up an original investment of fifty-five borrowed dollars into a business of his ownthat made him twenty thousand dollars a year. Then came a frost, a killing frost. Heendorsed a big note for a friend-and the friend went bankrupt.Quickly on top of that disaster came another: the bank in which he had all his moneycollapsed. He not only lost every cent he had, but was plunged into debt for sixteenthousand dollars. His nerves couldn't take it. "I couldn't sleep or eat," he told me. "Ibecame strangely ill. Worry and nothing but worry," he said, "brought on this illness.One day as I was walking down the street, I fainted and fell on the sidewalk. I was nolonger able to walk. I was put to bed and my body broke out in boils. These boils turnedinward until just lying in bed was agony. I grew weaker every day. Finally my doctortold me that I had only two more weeks to live. I was shocked. I drew up my will, andthen lay back in bed to await my end. No use now to struggle or worry. I gave up,relaxed, and went to sleep. I hadn't slept two hours in succession for weeks; but nowwith my earthly problems drawing to an end, I slept like a baby. My exhaustingweariness began to disappear. My appetite returned. I gained weight."A few weeks later, I was able to walk with crutches. Six weeks later, I was able to goback to work. I had been making twenty thousand dollars a year; but I was glad now toget a job for thirty dollars a week. I got a job selling blocks to put behind the wheels ofautomobiles when they are shipped by freight. I had learned my lesson now. No moreworry for me-no more regret about what had happened in the past-no more dread ofthe future. I concentrated all my time, energy, and enthusiasm into selling thoseblocks."Edward S. Evans shot up fast now. In a few years, he was president of the company. Hiscompany-the Evans Product Company-has been listed on the New York Stock Exchangefor years. When Edward S. Evans died in 1945, he was one of the most progressivebusiness men in the United States. If you ever fly over Greenland, you may land onHere is the point of the story: Edward S. Evans would never have had the thrill ofachieving these victories in business and in living if he hadn't seen the folly of worryingifhe hadn't learned to live in day-tight compartments.Five hundred years before Christ was born, the Greek philosopher Heraclitus told hisstudents that "everything changes except the law of change". He said: "You cannot stepin the same river twice." The river changes every second; and so does the man whostepped in it. Life is a ceaseless change. The only certainty is today. Why mar thebeauty of living today by trying to solve the problems of a future that is shrouded inceaseless change and uncertainty-a future that no one can possibly foretell?The old Romans had a word for it. In fact, they had two words for it. Carpe diem. "Enjoythe day." Or, "Seize the day." Yes, seize the day, and make the most of it.That is the philosophy of Lowell Thomas. I recently spent a week-end at his farm; and Inoticed that he had these words from Psalm CXVIII framed and hanging on the walls ofhis broadcasting studio where he would see them often:This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.John Ruskin had on his desk a simple piece of stone on which was carved one word:TODAY. And while I haven't a piece of stone on my desk, I do have a poem pasted on mymirror where I can see it when I shave every morning-a poem that Sir William Osieralways kept on his desk-a poem written by the famous Indian dramatist, Kalidasa:Salutation To The DawnLook to this day!For it is life, the very life of life.In its brief courseLie all the verities and realities of your existence:The bliss of growthThe glory of actionThe splendour of achievement.For yesterday is but a dreamAnd tomorrow is only a vision,But today well lived makes yesterday a dream of happinessAnd every tomorrow a vision of hope.Look well, therefore, to this day!Such is the salutation to the dawn.So, the first thing you should know about worry is this: if you want to keep it out of yourlife, do what Sir William Osier did -1. Shut the iron doors on the past and the future. Live in Day-tight CompartmentsWhy not ask yourself these questions, and write down the answers?1. Do I tend to put off living in the present in order to worry about the future, or toyearn for some "magical rose garden over the horizon"?2. Do I sometimes embitter the present by regretting things that happened in the pastthatare over and done with?3. Do I get up in the morning determined to "Seize the day"-to get the utmost out ofthese twenty-four hours?4. Can I get more out of life by "living in day-tight compartments" ?5. When shall I start to do this? Next week? .. Tomorrow? ... Today?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 2 -A Magic Formula For Solving Worry SituationsWould you like a quick, sure-fire recipe for handling worry situations-a technique youcan start using right away, before you go any further in reading this book?Then let me tell you about the method worked out by Willis H. Carrier, the brilliantengineer who launched the air-conditioning industry, and who is now head of the worldfamousCarrier Corporation in Syracuse, New York. It is one of the best techniques I everheard of for solving worry problems, and I got it from Mr. Carrier personally when wewere having lunch together one day at the Engineers' Club in New York."When I was a young man," Mr. Carrier said, "I worked for the Buffalo Forge Company inBuffalo, New York. I was handed the assignment of installing a gas-cleaning device in aplant of the Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company at Crystal City, Missouri-a plant costingmillions of dollars. The purpose of this installation was to remove the impurities fromthe gas so it could be burned without injuring the engines. This method of cleaning gaswas new. It had been tried only once before-and under different conditions. In my workat Crystal City, Missouri, unforeseen difficulties arose. It worked after a fashion -but notwell enough to meet the guarantee we had made."I was stunned by my failure. It was almost as if someone had struck me a blow on thehead. My stomach, my insides, began to twist and turn. For a while I was so worried Icouldn't sleep."Finally, common sense reminded me that worry wasn't getting me anywhere; sofigured out a way to handle my problem without worrying. It worked superbly. I havebeen using this same anti-worry technique for more than thirty years.It is simple. Anyone can use it. It consists of three steps:"Step I. I analysed the situation fearlessly and honestly and figured out what was theworst that could possibly happen as a result of this failure. No one was going to jail meor shoot me. That was certain. True, there was a chance that I would lose my position;and there was also a chance that my employers would have to remove the machineryand lose the twenty thousand dollars we had invested."Step II. After figuring out what was the worst that could possibly happen, I reconciledmyself to accepting it, if necessary. I said to myself: This failure will be a blow to myrecord, and it might possibly mean the loss of my job; but if it does, I can always getanother position. Conditions could be much worse; and as far as my employers areconcerned-well, they realise that we are experimenting with a new method of cleaninggas, and if this experience costs them twenty thousand dollars, they can stand it. Theycan charge it up to research, for it is an experiment."After discovering the worst that could possibly happen and reconciling myself toaccepting it, if necessary, an extremely important thing happened: I immediatelyrelaxed and felt a sense of peace that I hadn't experienced in days."Step III. From that time on, I calmly devoted my time and energy to trying to improveupon the worst which I had already accepted mentally."I now tried to figure out ways and means by which I might reduce the loss of twentythousand dollars that we faced. I made several tests and finally figured out that if wespent another five thousand for additional equipment, our problem would be solved. Wedid this, and instead of the firm losing twenty thousand, we made fifteen thousand."I probably would never have been able to do this if I had kept on worrying, because oneof the worst features about worrying is that it destroys our ability to concentrate. Whenwe worry, our minds jump here and there and everywhere, and we lose all power ofdecision. However, when we force ourselves to face the worst and accept it mentally,we then eliminate all those vague imaginings and put ourselves in a position in which weare able to concentrate on our problem."This incident that I have related occurred many years ago. It worked so superbly that Ihave been using it ever since; and, as a result, my life has been almost completely freefrom worry."Now, why is Willis H. Carrier's magic formula so valuable and so practical,psychologically speaking? Because it yanks us down out of the great grey clouds in whichwe fumble around when we are blinded by worry. It plants our feet good and solid onthe earth. We know where we stand. And if we haven't solid ground under us, how increation can we ever hope to think anything through?Professor William James, the father of applied psychology, has been dead for thirtyeightyears. But if he were alive today, and could hear his formula for facing the worst,he would heartily approve it. How do I know that? Because he told his own students: "Bewilling to have it so ... .Be willing to have it so," he said, because "... Acceptance ofwhat has happened is the first step in overcoming the consequences of any misfortune."The same idea was expressed by Lin Yutang in his widely read book, The Importance ofLiving. "True peace of mind," said this Chinese philosopher, "comes from accepting theworst. Psychologically, I think, it means a release of energy."That's it, exactly! Psychologically, it means a new release of energy! When we haveaccepted the worst, we have nothing more to lose. And that automatically means-wehave everything to gain! "After facing the worst," Willis H. Carrier reported, "Iimmediately relaxed and felt a sense of peace that I hadn't experienced in days. Fromthat time on, I was able to think."Makes sense, doesn't it? Yet millions of people have wrecked their lives in angry turmoil,because they refused to accept the worst; refused to try to improve upon it; refused tosalvage what they could from the wreck. Instead of trying to reconstruct their fortunes,they engaged in a bitter and "violent contest with experience"-and ended up victims ofthat brooding fixation known as melancholia.Would you like to see how someone else adopted Willis H. Carrier's magic formula andapplied it to his own problem? Well, here is one example, from a New York oil dealerwho was a student in my classes."I was being blackmailed!" this student began. "I didn't believe it was possible-I didn'tbelieve it could happen outside of the movies-but I was actually being blackmailed!What happened was this: the oil company of which I was the head had a number ofdelivery trucks and a number of drivers. At that time, OPA regulations were strictly inforce, and we were rationed on the amount of oil we could deliver to any one of ourcustomers. I didn't know it, but it seems that certain of our drivers had been deliveringoil short to our regular customers, and then reselling the surplus to customers of theirown."The first inkling I had of these illegitimate transactions was when a man who claimed tobe a government inspector came to see me one day and demanded hush money. He hadgot documentary proof of what our drivers had been doing, and he threatened to turnthis proof over to the District Attorney's office if I didn't cough up."I knew, of course, that I had nothing to worry about-personally, at least. But I alsoknew that the law says a firm is responsible for the actions of its employees. What'smore, I knew that if the case came to court, and it was aired in the newspapers, thebad publicity would ruin my business. And I was proud of my business-it had beenfounded by my father twenty-four years before."I was so worried I was sick! I didn't eat or sleep for three days and nights. I kept goingaround in crazy circles. Should I pay the money-five thousand dollars-or should I tell thisman to go ahead and do his damnedest? Either way I tried to make up my mind, it endedin nightmare."Then, on Sunday night, I happened to pick up the booklet on How to Stop Worryingwhich I had been given in my Carnegie class in public speaking. I started to read it, andcame across the story of Willis H. Carrier. 'Face the worst', it said. So I asked myself:'What is the worst that can happen if I refuse to pay up, and these blackmailers turntheir records over to the District Attorney?'"The answer to that was: The ruin of my business-that's the worst that can happen. Ican't go to jail. All that can happen is that I shall be ruined by the publicity.'"I then said to myself: 'All right, the business is ruined. I accept that mentally. Whathappens next?'"Well, with my business ruined, I would probably have to look for a job. That wasn't bad.I knew a lot about oil-there were several firms that might be glad to employ me. ... Ibegan to feel better. The blue funk I had been in for three days and nights began to lifta little. My emotions calmed down. ... And to my astonishment, I was able to think.