ADOPTING the phrase of our forefathers,
with all its force and brevity, we say, “The
proof of the pudding is in the eating.”
If the laws adduced in this book are
Nature’s laws, they should preserve us in health
and strength. And so they do just so far as we
truly and fully obey them.
Then are students and teachers of
these laws never ill, never run down, “nervous,”
or prostrated? Yes, they are sometimes ill, sometimes
run down and overworked, and suffer the many evil
effects ensuing; but the work which has produced these
results is much greater and more laborious than would
have been possible without the practice of the principles.
At the same time their states of illness occur because
they only partially obey the laws. In the degree
which they obey they will be preserved from the effects
of tensity, overstrung nerves, and generally worn-out
bodies; and in sickness coming from other causes-mechanical,
hereditary, etc.-again, according to
their obedience, they will be held in all possible
physical and mental peace, so that the disease may
wither and drop like the decayed leaf of a plant.
As well might we ask of the wisest
clergyman in the land, Do his truths never
fail him? Is he always held in harmony
and nobility by their power? However great and
good the man may be, this state of perfection will
never be reached in this world.
In exact parallel to the spiritual
laws upon which all universal truth, of all religions,
is founded, are the truths of this teaching of physical
peace and equilibrium. As religion applies to
all the needs of the soul, so this applies to all
the needs of the body. As a man may be continually
progressing in nobility of thought and action, and
yet find himself under peculiar circumstances tried
even to the stumbling point,-so may the
student of bodily quiet and equilibrium, who appears
even to a very careful observer to be in surprising
possession of his forces, under a similar test stumble
and fall into some form of the evil effects out of
which he has had power to lead others.
It is important that this parallelism
should be recognized, that the unity of these truths
may be finally accomplished in the living; therefore
we repeat, Is this any more possible than that the
full control of the soul should be at once possessed?
Think of the marvellous construction
of the human body,-the exquisite adjustment
of its economy. Could a power of control sufficient
to apply to its every detail be fully acquired at
once, or even in a life-time?
But when one does fall who has made
himself even partially at one with Nature’s
way of living, the power of patient waiting for relief
is very different. He separates himself from
his ailments in a way which without the preparation
would be to him unknown. He has, without drug
or other external assistance, an anodyne always within
himself which he can use at pleasure. He positively
experiences that “underneath are the everlasting
arms,” and the power to experience this gives
him much respite from pain.
Pain is so often prolonged and accentuated
by dwelling in its memory, living in a self-pity
of the time when it shall come again! The patient
who comes to his test with the bodily and mental repose
already acquired, cuts off each day from the last,
each hour from the last, one might almost say each
breath from the last, so strong is his confidence
in the renewal of forces possible to those who give
themselves quite trustfully into Nature’s hands.
It is not that they refuse external
aid or precaution. No; indeed the very quiet
within makes them feel most keenly when it is orderly
to rest and seek the advice of others. Also it
makes them faithful in following every direction which
will take them back into the rhythm of a healthful
life.
But while they do this they do not
centre upon it. They take the precautions as
a means and not as an end. They centre upon that
which they have within themselves, and they know that
that possible power being in a state of disorder and
chaos no one or all of the outside measures are of
any value.
As patients prepared by the work return
into normal life, the false exhilaration, which is
a sure sign of another stumble, is seen and avoided.
They have learned a serious lesson in economy, and
they profit by it. Where they were free before,
they become more so; and where they were not, they
quietly set themselves toward constant gain. They
work at lower pressure, steadily gaining in spreading
the freedom and quiet deeper into their systems, thus
lessening the danger of future falls.
Let us state some of the causes for
“breaking down,” even while trying well
to learn Nature’s ways.
First, a trust in one’s own
capacity for freedom and quiet. “I can do
this, now that I know how to relax.” When
truly considered, the thing is out of reason, and
we should say, “Because I know how to relax,
I see that I must not do this.”
The case is the same with the gymnast
who greatly overtaxes his muscle, having foolishly
concluded that because he has had some training he
can successfully meet the test. There is nothing
so truly stupid as self-satisfaction; and these errors,
with all others of the same nature, re fruits of our
stupidity, and unless shunned surely lead us into
trouble.
Some natures, after practice, relax
so easily that they are soon met by the dangers of
overrelaxation. Let them remember that it is really
equilibrium they are seeking, and by balancing their
activity and their relaxation, and relaxing only as
a means to an end,-the end of greater activity
and use later,-they avoid any such ill effect.
As the gymnast can mistake the purpose
of his muscular development, putting it in the place
of greater things, regarding it as an end instead
of a means,-so can he who is training for
a better use of his nervous force. In the latter
case, the signs of this error are a slackened circulation,
a loathing to activity, and various evanescent sensations
of peace and satisfaction which bear no test, vanishing
as soon as they are brought to the slightest trial.
Unless you take up your work with
fresh interest and renewed vigor each time after practice,
you may know that all is not as it should be.
To avoid all these mistakes, examine
the work of each day and let the next improve upon
it.
If you are in great need of relaxing,
take more exercise in the fresh air. If unable
to exercise, get your balance by using slow and steady
breaths, which push the blood vigorously over its path
in the body, and give one, to a degree, the effect
of exercise.
Do not mistake the disorders which
come at first, when turning away from an unnatural
and wasteful life of contractions, for the effects
of relaxing. Such disorders are no more caused
by relaxing than are the disorders which beset a drunkard
or an opium-eater, upon refusing to continue in the
way of his error, primarily caused by the abandonment
of his evil habit, even though the appearance is that
he must return to it in order to re-establish his
pseudo-equilibrium.
One more cause of trouble, especially
in working without a guide, is the habit of going
through the form of the exercises without really doing
them. The tests needed here have been spoken of
before.
Do not separate your way of practising
from your way of living, but separate your life entirely
from your practice while practising, trying outside
of this time always to accomplish the agreement of
the two,-that is, live the economy of force
that you are practising. You can be just as gay,
just as vivacious, but without the fatiguing after-effects.
As you work to gain the ideal equilibrium,
if your test comes, do not be staggered nor dismayed.
Avoid its increase by at once giving careful consideration
to the causes, and dropping them. Keep your life
quietly to the form of its usual action, as far as
you wisely can. If you have gained even a little
appreciation of equilibrium, you will not easily mistake
and overdo.
When you find yourself becoming bound
to the dismal thought of your test and its terrors,
free yourself from it every time, by concentrating
upon the weight of your body, or the slowness of the
slowest breaths you can draw. Keep yourself truly
free, and these feelings of discouragement and all
other mental distortions will steadily lose power,
until for you they are no more. If they last
longer than you think they should, persist in every
endeavor, knowing that the after-result, in increased
capacity to help yourself and others, will be in exact
ratio to your power of persistency without succumbing.
The only way to keep truly free, and
therefore ready to profit by the help Nature always
has at hand, is to avoid thought of your form of illness
as far as possible. The man with indigestion gives
the stomach the first place in his mind; he is a mass
of detailed and subdued activity, revolving about
a monstrous stomach,-his brain, heart,
lungs, and other organs, however orderly they may be,
are of no consideration, and are slowly made the degraded
slaves of himself and his stomach.
The man who does not sleep, worships
sleep until all life seems sleep, and no life
any importance without it. He fixes his mind on
not sleeping, rushes for his watch with feverish intensity
if a nap does come, to gloat over its brevity or duration,
and then wonders that each night brings him no more
sleep.
There is nothing more contracting
to mind and body than such idol-worship. Neither
blood nor nervous fluid can flow as it should.
Let us be sincere in our work, and
having gained even one step toward a true equilibrium,
hold fast to it, never minding how severely we are
tempted.
We see the work of quiet and economy,
the lack of strain and of false purpose, in fine old
Nature herself; let us constantly try to do our part
to make the picture as evident, as clear and distinct,
in God’s greater creation,-Human
Nature.