WASTE STEAM
If there is one thing more than another for which Americans are noted,
it is “nervous energy.” To this we attribute our notable achievements
in science, industry, and literature. To this energy, also, or rather
to the misuse of it, may be attributed the dyspepsia, the nervous
headaches, the general “breakdowns,” and the suicides so much more
prevalent of late years.
An abundant supply of nervous energy is one of the blessings of life,
it denotes almost unlimited capacity for work and enjoyment. It is the
steam that drives the engine; and which, under the control of a skilled
engineer, pulls the train upgrade as well as on the level. It is only
through ignorance or carelessness that the engine is allowed to run
wild, and destroys that which it was meant to convey safely.
So with the people who “go to pieces nervously.” There has been an
unskilled hand on the lever. Through ignorance or carelessness, the
nervous energy has been badly handled, and the force that should convey
us safely through life has caused our destruction. We should be as
careful with our minds as with our machines.
When we find ourselves getting nervous and worried, sleepless, “blue,”
or dyspeptic; or showing any of the numerous signs of misdirected
energy, such as short temper or headaches, we should take a day off
to examine the engine. It is time well spent, as we may thereby learn
something that will avert a complete breakdown.
If we find that we are not overeating, overworking, or overworrying;
not feeling animosity, nor suffering from an excessive idea of personal
importance—if, in fact, there are no fears gnawing our heartstrings nor
any other large and well-defined cause of trouble, we may well look
closer for small causes. “The foxes—the little foxes that spoil the
vines.”
There are often disturbing causes that we fail to notice as disturbing.
For instance, disorder about us, the habit of stirring everything up
and throwing everything around when we set to work. The confusion
communicates itself to our feelings, besides which the uncertainty as
to where we have put what we want next upsets our nerves.
It is a good plan, when we find ourselves “rattled” or not working
easily, to stop and clear things up, put everything in order. It is
marvelous how often that will smooth out the creases both in face and
temper and make the world look pleasant again.
If that itself proves to be a certain strain or an annoyance, leave the
whole thing and go out for a while, or take a nap, or even smoke, if
you do not feel that smoking hurts you. Anything that will distract the
attention from the seemingly annoying circumstances will relieve the
pressure on overwrought nerves and allow the system to regain its poise.
At this point it will sometimes serve to put into practice the rule
that William Pitt, Prime Minister of Great Britain, laid down for
himself: When overwhelmed with official duties, he divided his work
into three parts—that which was not worth doing, that which would do
itself, and that which was quite enough for any man to attempt. Make a
list of all the things you have to do, then go over that list and make
it into three. Pick out first the things that could be left undone,
because not really worth the effort they require. Having settled them,
you will find your load already lightened.
Next select those things that you want to do, but which somebody else
could do just as well. Make that list carefully. It is the hardest
one of the three. It is comparatively easy to decide that a thing we
may wish to do is not worth the effort it will cost, but it is quite
another matter to admit that somebody else could do those things just
as well.
And there is a reason for this feeling apart from mere ordinary
conceit, although it may only be a more subtle form of
conceit—self-approbativeness, as the phrenologists call it. It has its
rise in our belief that, while our way of doing that particular thing
may be no better than another’s way, yet it is “different,” and we
long to see the result of that different way. Nevertheless, it may be
that the best good of all concerned requires that somebody else do that
thing, and our nervous restlessness is merely a warning for us to omit
doing it ourselves.
Then, in the things left on the original list, we shall find all that
one person should undertake, and we shall do them with a zest and ease
that could not have been ours working in any other way. For myself,
when all else fails, and none of these devices does away with the
feeling of being pushed by my work, I close my desk and go for a walk.
If soothed, I return in an hour or two and take up my work easily;
otherwise, I leave it all until another day; it saves time in the end.
Circumstances prevent many persons from doing that: but we can do it,
in greater or less degree, far oftener than we think.
It is always advisable to stop long enough to find out what is the
matter. If a good engineer finds his engine running hard, he examines
it to finds the trouble. If your watch goes irregularly, you take it
to an expert to find the cause of irregularity. Why should we be less
careful with our minds?
What is needed is simply obedience to the laws of Nature that we know,
but the case may be one for the physical culturist, for the mental
therapeutist, for the moral teacher, or even for the alienist. Where
common sense fails or is wanting, we should consult an expert before it
is too late. (See Appendix A.)