The Untroubled Mind | Page 6

of were
sleeplessness and worry, together with the inevitable indigestion and
headache. Of course, as a physician, I went over the bodily functions
carefully, and studied, as far as I might, into the organic conditions. I
could find no evidence of physical disease. I did not say, "There is
nothing the matter with you"; for the man was sick. I told him that he
was tired, that he had thought too much, that he was too much
concerned about himself, and that as a result of all this his bodily
functions were temporarily upset. He thought he ought to worry about
himself, because otherwise he would not be trying to get well. I

explained to him that this mistaken obligation was the common reason
for worry, and that in this case, at least, it was quite unnecessary and
even harmful for him to go on thinking about himself. That helped a
little, but not nearly enough, because when a man has overworked,
when he has begun to worry, and when his various bodily functions
show results of worry, no reasoning, no explanations, can wholly
relieve him. I said to this young man, "In spite of your discomforts, in
spite of your depression and concern in regard to yourself, you will get
well if you will stop thinking about the matter altogether. You must be
first convinced that it is best for you to stop thinking, that no harm or
violence can result, and then you must be helped in this direction by
going to work with your hands--that will be life and progress, it will
lead you to health."
Fortunately I had had some experience with nervous illness, and I knew
that unless I managed for this man the character and extent of his work,
he would not only fail in it, but of its object, and so become more
confused and discouraged. I knew the troubled mind, in this instance,
might find its solace and its relief in work, but that I must choose the
work carefully to suit the individual, and I must see that the nervously
fatigued body was not pushed too hard.
In the town where I live is a blacksmith shop, presided over by a genial
old man who has been a blacksmith since he was a boy, and in whose
hands iron is like clay. I took my patient down to the smithy and said,
"Here is a young man whom I want to put to work. He will pay for the
chance. I want you first to teach him to make hand-wrought nails." This
was a good deal of a joke to the smith and to the patient, but they saw
that I was in earnest and agreed to go ahead. We got together the proper
tools and proceeded to make nails, a job which is really not very
difficult. After an hour's work, I called off my patient, much to his
disgust, for he was just beginning to be interested. But I knew that if he
were to keep on until fatigue should come, the whole matter would end
in trouble. So the next day, with some new overalls and a leather apron
added to the equipment, we proceeded to another hour's work. We went
on this way for three or four days, before the time was increased.

The interest of the patient was always fresh, he was eager for more, and
he did not taste the dregs of fatigue. Yet he did get the wholesome
exercise, and he did get the strong turning of the mind from its worry
and concern. Of course, the rest of the day was taken care of in one way
or another, but the work was the central feature. In a week, we were at
it two hours a day, in three weeks, four hours, and in a month, five
hours. He had made a handsome display of hand-wrought nails, a
superior line of pokers and shovels for fireplaces, together with a
number of very respectable andirons. On each of these larger pieces of
handiwork my patient had stamped his initials with a little steel die that
was made for him. Each piece was his own, each piece was the product
of his own versatility and his own strength. His pride and pleasure in
this work were very great, and well they might be, for it is a fine thing
to have learned to handle so intractable a material as iron. But in
handling the iron patiently and consistently until he could do it without
too much conscious thinking, and so without effort, he had also learned
to handle himself naturally, more simply and easily.
As a matter of fact, the illness which had brought this boy to me was
pretty nearly cured by his blacksmithing, because it