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New nerves for old ...

Arthur Astor Carey · 1914 · Scanned text · Free in the US

36,454 words · about 2 h 33 min to read

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About this book

Author
Arthur Astor Carey
Language
English
Published
1914
Length
36,454 words · about 2 h 33 min
Sections
18 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (18)

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Front matter

Class Z-i

Book L

CopyrightN?_

Contents

I. Introduction .

II. Body, Mind, and Spirit

III. The Training of the Will

Chapter I Introduction

AS sick nerves seem to be the great American disease, and as there exists still so much misunderstanding about them among people in general, and so superficial an understanding of them in the medical profession, it seems obvious that anything that has proved useful in their relief or cure should be put within the reach of sufferers. This is all the more so because, of all diseases, it appears to be the one which is most affected by the mental and moral attitude of the patient himself and least under the direct influence of external remedies.

The following suggestions and reflections are made without any claim to scientific authority or to anything like a complete knowledge of the subject, but as a result of long experience with the actual facts and conditions of nervous suffering, and long and careful observation of the practical effects of certain working principles in dealing with them.

There are many people whose lives are heavily burdened in this way without their knowing in the least what is at the root of their troubles. Their sufferings, moreover, are often complicated and increased by the fact that they do not distinguish between the symptoms which

Introduction

are beyond their control and those for which they are morally responsible. The consequence is — in the case of conscientious people — that a sense of self-reproach is often added to the nervous suffering, which is increased by the innocent brutality of unintelligent and well-meaning friends, and which puts an unfair and terrible weapon into the hands of the malicious and the prejudiced. It is hard to imagine a more difficult position than that of a sufferer without the strength required to do what he considers his duty, blaming himself ignorantly for his very weakness and suffering, making obvious mistakes which diminish his efficiency and alienate his friends, and frequently preserving all through this the outward appearance of ordinary health. Under such circumstances, considering the common frailty of human nature, it is not strange that the weakness of self-pity frequently appears to undermine still further the reserves of moral strength.

To the writer it seems that there is a deeper significance in such experiences than appears on the surface, and that they are full of possibilities of a new kind of strength, wisdom, and character, different and more lasting than falls to the lot of people in the ordinary experiences of life.

The peculiarity of the ordeal lies in its helplessness. Most trials — even of the tragic kind — bring with them a certain sense of strength when they are faced and borne with endurance and determination. But in these nervous trials the very root of the trouble, seems to lie in the loss of

INTRODUCTION

power to endure and in the sense that the ordinary underpinnings of life are giving way. Our abilities — that we felt proud of, — our physical strength, our social position, our wealth, — all these things bring us no comfort; and the old consolations of friendship are frequently impaired by misunderstandings and the inability to unburden our hearts for fear that we may lose all self-control, and with it the remnants of our self-respect. But this dread, too, has in many cases to be realized, and we break down utterly, without the least remaining shadow of pride or dignity.

Despair is the temptation that besets the sufferer at this stage; but, if he can be surrounded by the right kind of moral atmosphere, it may prove, when conquered, the very best preparation for a genuine trust in God; and, if he can seek and find that simple and ancient remedy for human ills (so unfashionable now in the midst of religious conventionality and scientific complacency), he will have found a key which will unlock door after door, — leading finally to the great outof-doors where the human consciousness, having thrown away the dross of self and the cheap trappings of pride, will feel itself honored only by the fact of being a child of God and a brother and companion of all his creatures. Here dependence upon a divine Father becomes a joy and strength never before dreamed of, and here we begin to recognize also that our individual weakness is but a partial revelation of the universal human weakness, which is only glossed over by the false starch of pride and

INTRODUCTION

pretense, and ultimately leaves us helpless whenever the inevitable failure of physical strength appears, unless we have laid hold of a higher strength than our own.

The consciousness of our helplessness, then, makes it possible for us to receive the guidance which all men need, — the daily supply of light and warmth, through the " Spirit of Truth," of penitence, and trust in God; and we begin to appreciate what Jesus meant when he said that we must all become " as little children."

This interpretation of the experiences of nervous suffering, when it is understood and finally accepted as self-evident, forms the only true basis for permanent cure. But it is because the cure itself has become a matter of secondary importance. We have learnt that our sufferings are capable of teaching us lessons infinitely more valuable than the mere well-being of physical health, and therefore we no longer resist them — we accept them with the utmost degree of willingness of which we are capable, praying always that we may become more willing as time goes on; and by this growing willingness of the spirit the strain of nervous tension is eased and the suffering itself is diminished.

Thus relief comes not only as a blessing in itself, when the end of pain has been accomplished, but as part of a far greater blessing in a deeper understanding and appreciation of life. We have changed our point of view from that of a suffering individual, whose strength and vitality have been taken away from him,

INTRODUCTION

to that of an individual who shares in the strength of a larger life than his own which he knows can never be taken away so long as he does his duty as a part of the whole — remembering his true function as a servant and beneficiary, gratefully receiving and enjoying his blessings, but renouncing the false responsibilities of self-importance and never claiming anything for self.

In the succeeding pages I will try to show that a false and ignorant point of view is at the root of many forms of nervous suffering, and that it can be cured in most cases by a careful study and application of the principles which are necessary to support a wholesome, humble, and happy attitude toward life, when it is gratefully accepted as a gift from the " Father of lights, in whom is no variableness nor shadow of turnmg.

All the chapters following the next one are given up to various aspects of life affecting nervous strain from a somewhat broader point of view, and it is believed that their connection with the struggles and victories of nervous suffering are sufficiently obvious to require no explanation.

But it is necessary to consider the fact that the disease — whatever its ultimate cause — has distinctly physical symptoms which should be met with physical remedies, — not in the form of drugs or external stimulation, but (in addition to proper rest and nourishment) in the form of physical relaxation.

Chapter II Body, Mind, and Spirit

THE immediate and visible condition of nervous suffering is abnormal strain or tension of the nerves and muscles. A little observation will reveal the fact that what we call " nervous motions " are jerky movements resulting from abnormal contraction- A sudden fright may automatically produce a contraction of the muscles and nerves in the region of the stomach, or, it may be, throughout the whole body, and in consequence we draw in our breath quickly and spasmodically. Any unexpected mental shock will often produce contractions of this kind and thus impede the normal circulation. This, of course, is a physical effect from a mental cause.

At first these contractions seem to follow immediately upon some corresponding mental impulse, such as fear, anxiety or over-intense desire and effort; and, when such mental impulses occur very frequently, a habit of contraction of the muscles and nerves becomes established, until in the end the nervous and muscular contraction becomes chronic and a permanent state of inferior circulation is induced. This habit of physical contraction is accompanied by a corresponding mental condition in which the sensations of fear, over-intensity, etc., remain, as it were, locked up and ready to make their appearance whenever occasion presents itself. The physical contraction accompanies mental states of depression and exhaustion, and forms — so to speak

— a thick wall or crust of dryness which keeps the natural energy of the nerves imprisoned, so that they no longer react

— except heavily and with great difficulty — to the demands of the will. The fight of the will against this imprisoning wall — without the knowledge of how to loosen and relax the bonds of contraction — is a discouraging, uphill struggle in which many sufferers are engaged, and in which strain and effort lead to greater and greater exhaustion with a corresponding increase of discouragement.

To learn how to relax these bonds of contraction and the abnormal tension of nerves and muscles systematically and persistently is the first step in the practical cure of nervous disorder when it exists without any organic disease; and, even in the presence of organic disease, nervous suffering may thus be much softened though not wholly cured. Fear of a disease or annoyance at its presence may contract the body so that the circulation may be seriously impeded and the healing power of nature be proportionately interfered with. People sometimes suffer from severe colds for weeks when they might have recovered from them in days, or almost in as many hours, if they had dropped their nervous resistances and consequently their contractions. An instance of the effect of such resistances and contractions is that of a young woman who kept herself nervously ill for years by constantly surrendering to a bitter discontent at not being physically strong, and by thus exhausting the strength she had, instead of using it in sensible and helpful ways. One peculiarity of this unhappy patient was that, although she professed to believe in religion, she refused to humble herself sufficiently to pray. This was the result of an inherited pride which added much to the strain of her condition.

In contrast to this it may be interesting to cite the case of another person who, by forming the habit of patience and non-resistance, succeeded through a period of years — in spite of intense and prolonged sufferings — in doing a great deal of useful work and ultimately leading a deeply happy life. In this case the habit of prayer was an essential factor of the cure, and the cure itself resulted in what seemed a transformation of character.

In all such cases and many others the beginning of relief can be found through an intelligent effort to drop the physical contractions. This habit of relaxation can be brought about by practising regular, rhythmical exercises in deep breathing, by exercises to loosen the contractions which produce the familiar sharp and dry quality of a nervous voice, and by exercises which counteract the contractions existing in the arms, legs, neck, and back, — and, in fact, in every part of the body. But the difficulty is that to practise these exercises, concentration is necessary; and, in such states of nervous tension, the effort to concentrate is always associated with special intensity and contraction of the nerves; so that, when the habit of contraction is voluntarily abandoned, it seems at first impossible to make any strong effort, and an entirely new habit must be formed which associates the strongest concentration with patient loosening from contraction, and with a quiet, unintense activity of mind.

It is this morbid association of concentrated effort with contraction of the nerves that makes the struggle of the will against the imprisoning wall of habitual and rigid tension so hopeless without intelligent and sympathetic instruction. For, without the knowledge of how to relax the muscles and nerves, every effort of the will exerted to counteract the paralyzing effect of nervous tension increases the tension itself by the contraction of the nerves with which each effort is accompanied.

For instance, a young man who was a 17 good tennis player and had a strong physique was gradually overtaken by nervous suffering as a result of worries which he did not know how to control. To his companions he seemed merely self-absorbed, and his morbid peculiarities were ridiculed with a certain amount of contempt. His friends would urge him to play tennis, and, with the idea that he must distract himself and think of other people, he would assent and play set after set without great apparent weakness, but with the greatest subsequent exhaustion. His effort forcibly to separate his mind from his suffering led him into deeper suffering, and the strained exercise of his will appeared to make it weaker than it was before.

It is a vicious circle from which the effort to escape through blind and exhausting struggle leads to ever-increasing weakness and a further closing in of the prison walls; but, as the patient gradually learns, by quiet and persistent practice, to relax his tense muscles and nerves, the old association of effort with over-intensity gives way to a new association, — that of concentration with physical relaxation and gentleness. With this new habit of quiet physical motion, unaccompanied by the old intensity and rigidity, the relief and comfort of a freer circulation begins to be felt; and this, of course, brings encouragement and hope.

A number of physical exercises to remove the strain of nerves have been designed in well-proportioned series, an account of which will be found in the appendix; but, if the principle underlying them is properly grasped, any intelligent person can invent others which will have a beneficial effect. The main object of them is two-fold: first, as has been said, to relieve the sufferer from the pressure of physical contraction and strain; and secondly, — as a consequence of this — to uncover the mental causes of strain — such as fear, anger, jealousy, vanity, unyielding grief, — in connection with specific facts, which will be found to underlie them. It is interesting to know that, so long as a patient is in the thraldom of physical contraction, it is difficult for him to see clearly or to understand intelligently the mental or spiritual causes which are at the root of his suffering; but, when the weight of physical contraction has begun to yield, the mental sufferings come up to the consciousness with greater clearness and can therefore be dealt with more effectively.

But the practice of these exercises often reveals a great lack of the power of concentration in the patient. After the first interest of novelty has worn off, a certain degree of persistence is required to go through them with the right amount of attention and care, and a lack of patience and persistence reveals weakness existing in the concentrating power of the will. It is most natural that, when the nervous system has formed habits of contraction in the effort to react against impulses of fear or anger, it should be difficult and disagreeable for the nerves to reverse the process which has become habitual to them, and to accept new habits of the opposite kind — habits of gentle, and steady, and continuous motion — in their place. The force of habit is, as we all know, one of the strongest factors we have to deal with in human life; and, in the case of hyper-sensitive nerves, it is particularly trying to reverse and change old physical habits even when they are the cause of suffering.

Thus it will be seen that the training of nerves and muscles out of states of abnormal contraction involves the training of the will in patience and concentration, in order to teach the new lesson that concentration is more vigorous and effective when accompanied by quietness and persistence, than it is when joined with spasmodic intensity. If exercises in relaxation were to be done purely mechanically and without the active, willing cooperation of the patient himself, they would not result in any change of habit in the nerves. The old habit would reassert itself as soon as the exercise was finished, and the muscles and nerves would slip back into their accustomed contractions with the same ease as that with which a rubber band shrinks into its original size when tension is removed. The exercises, to be curative, must draw out the cooperation of both intelligence and will, and must train both the mind and the body to work in conformity with a new standard of quiet, continuous, and vigorous motion.

In learning to acquire the new power of concentration necessary to form these habits of freedom from strain, all sorts of difficulties present themselves, which must, one by one, be overcome. All sorts of plausible reasons and excuses arise, — reasons for not persisting in the course already chosen, and excuses to explain away the weakness of will — the self-indulgence — which shrinks from the drudgery of monotonous perseverance. Thus the process of cure by relaxation becomes more and more a matter of strengthening the will, or character, or spirit; and establishing, through strong concentration, its normal command over the body; and less and less a mere matter of relaxing physical strain alone. The deeper we get into the work of cure, after beginning with the physical symptoms of muscular and nervous contraction, the more our attention becomes directed toward the training of the will, which, with the power of thinking, forms what we call our character.

This fact is further emphasized by the 24 effect, already mentioned, of physical relaxation upon the mind. The nervous contractions which, by gradual accumulation, form permanent habits of strain and rigidity, spring from spontaneous but weak impulses of the will to protect itself from the effects of painful or violent emotion. Granted the presence of such a degree of fear or anger, for instance, in a young, ignorant, inexperienced, and at the same time sensitive person, the impulse to contract the nerves and muscles of the body is an instinctive effort to put on the brakes and to set up a barrier against an emotion which might otherwise be overwhelming and humiliating. The contractions are the result of an undeveloped and ignorant instinct of self-preservation against the obvious and painful effects of unrestrained emotion, — and the fatigue and strain which is caused by these contractions, when they become habitual, is due to the fact that the inhibiting power of the will upon which we rely to put on the brakes is too feeble to control the emotion. Unless the inhibiting power of the will can be strengthened and enabled to work without any nervous and muscular contraction, the result of such a condition must inevitably be a further weakening of the power of inhibition until the brakes wear out and the unrestrained emotions overflow the bounds of proper balance and reserve. Such an absence of self-control as this is characteristic of states of nervous breakdown, and it represents the normal process of nature in its striving for readjustment and health. For the breaking down of the nerves, although accompanied with great suffering, affords an opportunity of rest which was impossible, either by night or by day, so long as they were in a state of chronic tension with no way open toward relaxation and the softening of the physical strain.

The opportunity to relax and rest which nature gives to a strained and suffering patient through the more or less violent crises of nervous breakdown may be provided in a more gradual, regular, and gentle manner through the relaxing exercises above mentioned. But it must be observed that, when the habit of putting on the brakes in emotional excitement by contractions of the nerves is given up, there must intervene a time and state of comparative helplessness before a new and deeper habit of self-control — based upon intelligence, and will, and love of principle — has been established. It will be seen that, if the cure is to be thorough and permanent, it is necessary that the superficial inhibition of spasmodic contraction should be discarded, and that a new and stronger habit of inhibition should take its place in the deeper region of the intelligence and will.

This means, of course, that the new habit must form part of the character itself, and must be based upon a conviction of the truth of moral or spiritual law; and that the impulses of fear, anger, or resentment, which hitherto have been met with nervous resistance, shrinking, or other forms of contraction, must now be met, without excitement or contractions of any kind, as temptations to sin, as ugly weaknesses of character springing from self-love.

In some cases such a degree of character undoubtedly exists, in the same person, alongside of contraction and strain, and the difficulty is principally that of the patient's ignorance of the nature of his trouble and of the forces at his command. In such cases the old shallow habits of contraction can be cast off like heavy outer garments or encumbering chains, leaving the character and the spirit free to assert its normal power and dignity in self-control, while, at the same time, relieving the nerves. But in many other cases, and especially among the young or inexperienced, there is no such underlying character already formed; and, in these cases, the cure of sick nerves involves nothing less than a training in character, or a re-education of the heart and mind in accordance with the fundamental laws of life.

While, by the exercises, the old habits of physical contraction are being undermined, the nerves relaxed, and the will trained in quiet concentration, the mental causes of strain in the past, many of which may be lying forgotten, or halfforgotten, in the subconscious mind, will be brought under review; and these may be removed in retrospect by the frank acknowledgment of the moral or mental weakness which originally caused the strain, and by seizing the first opportunity to act from a different spirit, with humble confidence in a higher power than our own. Such moral or mental weakness need not, of course, imply guilt, for it may be caused by hereditary tendency; but it nevertheless is an antecedent cause, without which the original mental shock, or series of shocks, need not have resulted in strain. No matter how great the shock, the calamity, or the overwork in connection with which the strain was originally brought to light, it is inconceivable that its effect could not have been sufficiently softened or modified to prevent strain, if the mental attitude of the patient had been softened and controlled by a sufficient degree of wise patience and gentle non-resistance. It is not an uncommon experience for a person who is quietly doing the relaxing exercises to break out in a burst of irritability or anger; and, as the words rush out of his mouth, you find that he is talking of something which happened months — perhaps years — ago. The best help is given then by encouraging him to let it out until he has relieved the repressed feeling, helping him to face the whole thing squarely, to drop the resistance to it, and then get rid of it forever. A burst of grief is equally — perhaps more — common, especially in women, and should be met in the same way.

" Forget it, forget it," is the usual expression regarding a painful experience, but you cannot forget it. If you think you have forgotten it, you have only pushed it into the background of your brain, and it is sure to reappear some time or other with stubborn insistence. Only by facing it first in the right spirit can we learn to drop it cleanly, and so find permanent relief.

Sensitive people are often tormented 32 by the sufferings of their vanity or selfconsciousness in retrospect; and, in the case of nervous disease, these resuscitations of old mistakes and humiliations frequently take possession of the brain and reduce it for the time to stagnant impotence. It is a difficult and delicate task to arouse both the intelligence and the will to meet the necessities of such a situation. It requires that we should accept the fact that we have made fools of ourselves, or even worse, not with the artificial laughter of self-ridicule which only covers up the shame, but with the simple and genuine recognition that what concerns our vanity alone cannot possibly be of any lasting consequence. This, we find, is only a view from another angle of the truth that self-love is at the bottom of all nervous suffering, and that we only truly begin to live wholesomely as the self begins to die.

It is likely that harmful and foolish suggestions made to children, when they are very young, may develop tendencies to similar follies on a larger scale when they have grown up. A man in middle life, for instance, remembered his suffering as a child from the presence of a mole upon his body of which some vulgar person, whom he had forgotten, had taught him to be ashamed. Many instances could be brought up of apparently trivial experiences which conveyed a subtle poison, to lie dormant in the subconscious mind and ultimately assert itself in various painful forms. Other experiences which are not trivial are often pushed into the background of the mind and seem forgotten for years until they are brought to the surface of the consciousness by the " opening up " effect of relaxation.

Thus by the " opening up" of the book of his past experience, the patient gains the opportunity of revising his past life, recognizing his mistakes, and correcting his judgments; and, by this process, the psychological burdens of unfortunate life-histories are often much lightened or entirely removed. Hence the process of cure, which originally began with the effort to counteract the external symptoms of physical contraction in the muscles and nerves, is extended to a deeper field of action in the spiritual consciousness — the prof ounder region of the heart and mind where considerations of conscience hold the place of first importance, and where a clear, reasonable, and healthy conscience is necessary to contentment.

But the very use of the words " spiritual consciousness " implies that we recognize a spiritual cause behind the phenomena of conscience and character; — and so we are led, finally, to a recognition, first, of spiritual law as the basis of character; secondly, to a recognition of the necessity of acknowledging our mistakes in the past and present; and, thirdly, to the necessity of relaxing all the physical contractions of the nerves. This is the order of cause and effect, — the original difficulty being in weakness of character, either personal or inherited, leading to moral errors or mistakes of judgment, and, finally, to physical lack of balance and weakness; but the reverse order is that in which a cure would, in most cases, be wisely approached: the loosening of the contractions of the body, the acknowledgment and correction of mistakes and false judgments, and the recognition of spiritual responsibility as the fundamental obligation of life. In other words, we begin with relieving the body, and go on to repentance and trust in God.

Under no other circumstances can we appreciate more forcibly the wisdom of the old proverb: "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread," than in those of nervous suffering and cure. It cannot be urged too strongly that the one essential in such treatment as is described here (apart from the patient himself) is an atmosphere of warm and yet impersonal affection in the physician or friend in charge. The elements of cure lie deeper than the utmost skill of science or of any mere intellectual ingenuity; they must include an atmosphere of companionship and wholesome sympathy in making all the necessary sacrifices of self which are demanded in the cleansing of the mind. But it is not necessary that the sick should be cared for by the sick alone to bring about this curative and encouraging influence. We shall find that the necessity for giving up the demands of self-love and exaggerated self-importance, which the cure of nerves demands, leads to a recognition of this same necessity as a universal principle — for both sick and well; but the animal spirits of health and the natural pride of well-being act as a screen, until sympathy and discernment have shown us our true relation to life and the meaning of its laws.

The delicacy of the task calls for practical reverence in dissociating inevitable weaknesses from a fellow man or woman, and so not confirming or emphasizing the mental rubbish which is being cast off by a struggling soul. The strength of it calls for loyalty to principle, when our natural sympathies tend to weak excuses and a glossing over of the truth, which can only bring more confusion in the end. Hence, when it is our privilege to lead a fellow wayfarer toward the light to which his eyes are not yet accustomed, our first demand upon ourselves should be that we keep our own hearts in union with the realities of life and not with its mere appearances, sensations, or conventionalities.

Chapter III The Training of the Will

THE will, as the seat of our affections, is the most important element of our being. It is the essence of the man himself, and therefore, in all kinds of human service, it should logically be given an important place. In schools, in churches, in hospitals, especially in hospitals for the insane, in reformatories and prisons, wherever we try to benefit our brothers and sisters in methodical ways, one would think that the education and training of the will would be the first subject of scientific study and loving effort. For the training of the will means the building up of character, and character underlies everything that is most useful, beautiful, and joyful in human life.

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