Remedies For The Fears Of Timidity

( Originally Published Early 1900's )

FIRST REMEDY: Asserting the Right to Courage. To every person the nature of things grants the inalienable right of perfect fearlessness so long as life harmonizes with the laws of individual uprightness. In no one inheres the right to inspire fear in others, except in the case of wrong-doing. Whoever claims or exercises the ability or right to inspire fear, wrong-doing alone excepted, labels himself a robber, for he has stolen a prerogative which does not belong to man or God.

If you will repeatedly and persistently suggest to yourself this law: "It is my inalienable right to be clean free from fear of man," a habit of courage will in time possess and dominate your entire being, and fear will slip from your soul like a hated, long-used garment.

The goal may certainly require a large expenditure of will-power thrown into very considerable and patient effort, but the glory of freedom will outweigh all the cost, whatever that cost may be.

SECOND REMEDY: Cultivating Unselfishness. This remedy involves the elimination from life of all selfishness. The world is divisible into — yourself and the rest of mankind. If you fear anyone in the second half, you must banish selfishness and cultivate altruism, because, in the view of every other person, you belong to that second half, and you must wholly deduct your contribution to the fear-causes of life. Not being unselfish yourself, you have no right to complain when others inspire fear in your soul by their selfishness. The nature of things imperatively requires in your life that illustration of the Golden Rule which alone can impart to the dead unquestioned sanctity.

THIRD REMEDY: Unfolding the Self. The cure of man-fear involves the cultivation of the self in every possible way, together with the development, while this culture is obtaining, and by unwearied persistence, of the courage-habit — strong, will-poised, and abiding. Inasmuch as the first part of the remedy will not soon be effected, each individual must look to himself alone for that sovereign spirit of courage which is the absolute right of every human being.

By so much as you seek self-unfoldment you will become conscious of your possessions and of power, and you will thus acquire a feeling of reasonable equality with others. The unfoldment of the soul, let it now be understood, does not depend upon the training of the schools alone. The school educates no one; it is merely a field in which self-education may be carried on. Moreover, an immense amount of instruction given in the schools is sheer tomfoolery, and comes to nothing of value in any life. The college graduate seldom knows the huge realities of himself and the nature of things, because it has never occurred to his instructors either to suggest these great realities or to offer rational methods for their study. The true university of man is the subconscious self making up into the conscious personality and interpreting the seen and the unseen worlds of existence. I speak of the subconscious and the conscious merely as convenient indications, for there is one self only. This university of the deeper self is open to all, but it demands fidelity, persistence and hard work as prerequisites to all promotion. For this reason, open as the school is to all, the majority of people ignore its mighty opportunities. The excuses given for such neglect are usually lack of time and the demands of the physical life, but in almost all cases the excuses are entirely invalid. There are very few people indeed who may not seize a little time each day for splendid unfoldment of the soul, if only resolution were capable of slighting innumerable unimportant matters. For this work does not necessarily require books and freedom from confining labor, but may be conducted during various occupations and under all sorts of conditions. The methods involved in such personal education can, of course, be only indicated at the present time, but certain propositions will now be advanced which will suffice to set any earnest mind on what I believe to be the right track. These propositions are true and they are practicable as inspirations.

First Proposition: You can gain time for self-culture if you persistently determine that you will.

Second Proposition: The four supremely important fields of human investigation are — the Self, the Nature of Things in the Material and the Non-material Worlds, the Right Relations of Persons, and the Infinite.

Third Proposition: The Art of all Arts is the Art of Successful Self-Handling for all Legitimate Purposes.

Fourth Proposition: He who determines on knowing his own nature must proceed with two methods — Observation for Discovery of the Facts, and Interpretation for Understanding of their Significance. No prejudice for or against fact or meaning may be tolerated in this study. If you will devote a year to the investigation of your self, getting at some of the facts, discovering what those facts mean, you will as certainly develop a sense of power as you will live. In this work such questions will be helpful as: What am I? What is body? What is matter? What is personality? What is soul? What is mind? What is the will? What are the main laws of my being? Wherein does my nature differ from that of other people? What is my character? What is right living? Am I living rightly? What is the law of mind's power over matter? What are my talents? My weaknesses? How may I develop and successfully use my powers? How may I correct my faults? etc., etc., etc.

Fifth Proposition: The study of the nature of things in the Seen and the Unseen Worlds is identical in character with the study of the self. As studies, both realms are objective to the investigator's self. Neither the outer world nor the inner self is more or less open than the other to the searching of the self. There comes a time in the self-unfoldment when it can no Ionger be said that the self is closer or more familiar to self than is the Universe in which it lives, or that the Universe is greater or more mysterious than the self, but the self then seems to embrace the Universe and the Universe seems to abide in the self. Thus, following the suggestions of the preceding paragraphs, we may now ask, as examples of study — What is Reality? Truth? Law? Force? Power? Unfoldment? Agency? Achievement? Harmony? Beauty? Life? Love? How came the world? What does it mean? What is my place in time and space? What are Time and Space? Cause? Character? Government? Etc., etc., etc.

Sixth Proposition: All right life is balance, and he alone lives rightly who, if left the sole individual in the Universe, would justify the Universe and hold it together. Our questions here are: Do I balance my fellows so far as they are right? Do I contribute toward the realization of their right relations? Do I mean equilibrium in the home, school, place of business, lodge, church, company, community, state, nation? What are the fundamental laws of human harmony or balance? What are the basic causes of disturbance of harmonious equilibrium among men? What are some of the right methods for removing the disturbing causes and restoring harmony? Do I exhibit the virtues and habits that make for human welfare? Are my relations to others right? Etc., etc.

Seventh Proposition: The Infinite resides in man, or, in finite personality, and therein alone, for Nature is Thought, it is not the Infinite Thinker, and the Infinite can only be found by the individual within his own soul or self. The truth is: you are all right things you know about. This does not mean that you alone exist. It means that, while innumerable things actually exist besides yourself, you find them only through your self, and, in that sense, in your self, and as you know them they are you. You, therefore, are your own courage, faith, work, law, method, destiny; you are the world of Nature, the kingdoms of the unseen, time, space, cause, effect, law, truth, power; you are yourself, your Universe, your philosophy, your religion, your creator of a God, so far as you know about these realities. All you know of such realities is your own thought. Your Nature-world is not yonder, but within you. Your Man-world is not yonder, but within. Your Unseen-Universe-Thought-world is not yonder, but within. Your God is not yonder, but within. What-ever, then, you make your realms of thought, that you are. If your thought of self is little, you are little. If your thought of self is cowardly, you are cowardly. If your thought of life is pessimistic, you are a failure. If your Man-Thought is small, you are small. If your Unseen-Universe-Thought is poverty-stricken, you are poverty-stricken. If your God-Thought is half devil, or weak, or blurred, you are precisely so. Thus it is in every direction, and thus it ever will be. But if, on the contrary, your thought-Self, thought-Nature, thought-Unseen, thought-God is in each case great and marvelous and infinitely worth while, then you are great and marvelous and infinitely worth while. And always it is The Infinite discovered in self which adds splendor to existence and makes the All-Good adorable.

I have indulged in these large sentences because I have desired to stimulate you to "sit up and take notice." A great soul you are if only you discover the fact. That great self need not bemoan any lack of time 'or school or opportunity for unfoldment. All the time there is belongs to you, and the greatest university on earth is your self. The realms of vital reality and beauty are all yours if you will but resolve upon their acquisition. I have merely offered a few suggestions, and yet here you have presented work for a lifetime — aye, for an eternity. Some of you will smile and go on in the old, old way, timid, ignorant, suspicious, sensitive, poverty-stricken in mind and purse. Of course. But some of you will brace to the task of self-culture possible to all and the unfoldment of power and courage, and to such valiant souls I say, "All things are yours."

FOURTH REMEDY: Developing Desire For Courage. Here lies the secret of failure in reform of self — the want of adequate desire. There is a large amount of jelly-philosophy current about the weakness of the human will. Men are unable, it is said, to omit whiskey from life because they lack the necessary power of will. This is not true. All the power any man needs (outside of hospital patients), that man already possesses if only he really desires to use his power. But the reality of desire is not measured by a mere thought: it means willingness to suffer the pangs of the self brought into unaccustomed and right lines of living. If one wants a thing enough to will to suffer what its gain costs in his particular case, he can certainly attain it. It is at precisely this point that lack of will appears. The soul resolves; then it begins to suffer; then it desires relief from suffering more than it desires victory; then it fails. Given the wrong balance of desire, and the failure is inevitable. If, when it begins to suffer and to whine for relief, it steadfastly wills the reform-desire vigorously in consciousness, and with "shut teeth" says, "This suffering cannot be helped, it is the price of liberty, and this soul does and shall consent to pay the whole price of freedom!" then strength creeps in, a laggard, but sure, and the effort is notched one key higher. Repeat the process long enough, and the thing is done; there is no other outcome.

This general truth, I concede, does not solve all will-problems. It would seem that some people are really unable to consent to suffering. Nevertheless, the truth is a large element in every question of this kind. Your ability to conquer any evil is simply your ability to pay the suffer-price involved. In the case of timidity the suffer-price is the inconvenience, time and labor required in the application of the detail methods indicated, together with resolute contact with all sorts of people in unusual conditions of your life.

FIFTH REMEDY: Faith in the Present Effort. Faith conceived as the affirmatively expectant attitude of the whole self, is one of the mightiest powers in this world. It is the fundamental element in auto-suggestion. You are therefore invited to make your entire thought and life a suggestion to self that these directions faithfully carried out will infallibly eliminate from your nature the feeling of timidity and its accompanying distress. The practical method therefor is the daily affirmation, "I have boundless faith in the instructions of ` Culture of Courage.'"

SIXTH REMEDY: Determination Not to Give Up. Faith without works is merely a "say-so." Real faith is confident action toward a goal. The continuation of such action measures the kind and power of faith supposed. You should, therefore, determine to persevere — a thousand years if necessary, for you are yourself everlasting, if you will. But let it be remembered that mere resolution is only one-half of real determination. Some people resolve — and then resolve, never achieving victory. Others put "bite" into the matter in hand once for all, and do not seem to know how to let go. The only cure for resolution is determination, for determination is just doing the thing resolved upon.

SEVENTH REMEDY: Assuming the Thing Now Accomplished. The soul which says, "I am going to overcome," will very likely fail. The leverage runs too far into the future. A valiant will always acts on a short lever! You should, therefore, declare: "I am overcoming! The thing is now being accomplished! The matter in hand is mastered!" This may seem a trifle false, but it is more than a trifle true if you really mean it. When a man swears the needed thing now, it is by so much already done in his will, and a good deal of it, unknown to him, is accomplished in the concrθte.

EIGHTH REMEDY: Creating the Mood of Courage. In order to develop a general background of right mentality, you are now invited to summon and maintain the mood of courage. Courage should be made a working part of your life. Any personal mood, and hence that of courage, may be initiated or assumed, and the assumption may be gradually transformed into a real element of the individual character. The method for creating the mood of courage is simple: put your mind in the attitude of fearlessness by incessantly thinking, "I fear nothing," and go on to act in conduct as though you were naturally possessed of indomitable courage. Even if you must begin with more or less bluster in order to maintain the feeling by some outward manifestation, do not fear that others will discover your effort, for people are not nearly so keen of insight, at least so investigating, as you might suppose. In time the difficulty which you are fighting will tone down any undue expression of your courage. If you begin with bluster and continue with persistency, you will overcome shyness, bashfulness, timidity, and yet not be offensively bold. And so far as boldness is concerned, that will never be your trouble, and apprehension thereof you should now once for all put entirely out of mind, Worry. Worry-brooding merely develops more worry, and, in your case, more timidity as well. Such a state of mind is a perfect hot-house for the unfoldment of a thousand ills. Souls that are healthy all round never worry. The method for banishment of this distressful feeling consists in forcing a better personal sense and a better thought, which may be accomplished by practising instant refusal to worry, to entertain that condition of mind, under any circumstance, at any provocation. This method requires considerable 'patience and persistence, but in the end it means killing worry outright. In the meantime, the goal of freedom should constantly be idealized and held in view as an unceasingly attractive prize which you surely will win.

You may say, perhaps: "Why, I do not worry about my timidity; it is my nature, and I simply accept the fact and make the most of it." In that case, I should almost advise you to worry, because the diffident person distresses other people while remaining a mere fraction of a human being. Those whom you meet are compelled perpetually to adjust themselves to your case, to be inconveniently careful about your feelings, and to put themselves out in various ways in order to avoid hurting you. Now, that sort of thing is out of all reason. None of us relish walking about "on eggs." You really have no right to make such demands upon common good nature. You should therefore take your own case in hand for the sake of relieving other people of unnecessary trouble. I know several timid souls for whom one must always do a great deal of social fussing; they must be introduced, must be looked up and dragged out of holes into which they have crawled, must, in a word, be nursed and coddled until one might almost wish they would form a society of diffidence and herd all together. If you are of this tender, sensitive class, then, you ought to brace to a little effort looking toward a measure of unselfishness on your own part.

Nevertheless, the remedy does not involve thought in the nature of worry, but rather the determination to take a stand among people as able to care for self in all social relations, thinking always of entire ability to do so, of ability now in exercise, and of the idea as wholly free from all thought of worry or personal distress. In other words, you are urged to strip the courage-mood of every atom of worry or doubt by maintaining constantly the ideal in mind of yourself perfectly self-possessed among all classes of people and under any conceivable circumstance!

TENTH REMEDY: Dismission of the Shrinking Disposition. This remedy is very similar to the fore-going, but is given because it may suggest a somewhat different phase of the work. You are urged to dismiss from all thought the notion of your shrinking disposition, by putting it instantly away whenever it arises in consciousness and immediately thinking of some agree-able subject suggestive of courage. You will find it helpful in this effort to imagine yourself as carrying on a lively conversation with some person in whose presence you are usually timid and as being consciously on a level with such person and entirely at ease. This regime is of great value, and should be persistently practised for a period long enough to make such imaginary states of the self habituated and usual.

ELEVENTH REMEDY: Forgetting Self. The secret of timidity, diffidence, bashfulness, shrinking, and the like, lies in the auto-suggestion of perpetual and pronounced self-consciousness. You are abnormally self-conscious in the presence of others, and certain physical effects follow which in turn react upon the mind: the lips tremble, the hands are in the way, the breath is unnatural, the voice is low, and so on. I might, there-fore, advise suppression of these physical signs, for the moment one becomes conscious of them timidity in-creases. Fear feeds on bodily expression. It is, indeed, helpful to force down, so to speak, all such manifestations by a resolute bracing of the self against them — that is, in some cases. But in view of the fact that such an effort may in other cases only accentuate the trouble, I suggest a better method, at least an additional one, which consists in acquiring the art of self-forgetfulness, since, when one is unconscious of self, timidity and its distress must necessarily vanish.

In order to this diminution of awareness of self, you should practise trying to place your thoughts on those with whom you are timid, when in their presence, as being homely, awkward, conceited, blustering, ignorant, selfish, and the like; or, as being handsome, agreeable, well-informed, friendly, etc.,— but never as being superior,— so that you cease to think of yourself and have only such thoughts about others as will tend to eliminate occasion for timidity when with them. During the continuation of this regime, which may consume months, you are urged to engage in conversation with the people with whom you are nervous, always seeking to bring the matter around to some field in which you are especially at home. In so doing, you will obtain a double result: you will interest your hearer because you know your subject and can give him information unfamiliar to him, and you will become interested in the conversation yourself, and thus in the warmth of a two-fold interest your self-consciousness will tend to wear away. If conversation, now, should chance to be out of the question, you can at least concentrate your powers on the task of pleasing the other person, and thus, again, succeed in forgetting self. The main principle suggested in this remedy is the law that timidity is lost in self-forgetfulness, and any method which involves that principle, whether those above given or such as you may yourself devise, will prove helpful.

TWELFTH REMEDY: Maintaining the Attitude of External Interest. One characteristic of the timid per-son is the self-centre. Such an one does not mean, perhaps, to be selfish, yet himself is nevertheless and naturally the centre of feeling and thought. If this is your trouble, you need to "get out of yourself," to shift the main point of interest. You are urged, then, to become interested, not necessarily in others as a matter of theory or concession, but in what others are saying and doing, both in your thought and in your conduct or contact with them. It will assist you in this effort to maintain in the presence of others the attitude of external interest. By so much will you cease thinking of yourself, of your gestures, of your manners, of what others may be thinking or saying about you. In connection with this, it will be well to cultivate indifference as to whether or not you attract or please people in general, or as to any sort of opinion you may or may not inspire. Such indifference, of course, is not an ideal for the common life, but it is a necessity in the case of the timid person because it braces him against his fault and helps him to overcome it. If you will begin the work by assuming the external signs of interest in thoughts and doings not your own, you will find something of real interest springing up, and, in the meantime the self-consciousness of timidity will by so much decrease in your life.

There are, to be sure, certain constitutional phases of shyness, diffidence and awkwardness which appear to be exceedingly stubborn in refusing to yield to self-discipline. Some of our greatest souls are thus handicapped through life. Nathaniel Hawthorne was never able to overcome shyness and consciousness of his own manners. But Hawthorne was more or less recluse, and who shall say that his efforts for mastery in this matter were really intelligent and persistent. It is exactly in point that Archbishop Whateley, who tried imitation of others, and failed, finally discovered for himself the secret of freedom from embarrassment, as will be seen in the following remarks:

" Why should I endure this torment all my life to no purpose? I would bear it still if there were any success to be hoped for; but since there is none, I will die quietly without taking any more doses. I have tried my very utmost, and find that I must be as awkward as a bear all my life, in spite of it. I will endeavor to think as little about it as a bear, and make up my mind to endure what can't be cured." Then his shyness disappeared, because he thought no more about the matter than a bear would have thought. Afterwards he wrote: "I succeeded beyond my expectations; for I not only got rid of the personal suffering of shyness, but also of most of those faults of manner which consciousness produces, . . . and therefore giving expression to that good will towards men which I really felt; and these, I believe, are the main points."

THIRTEENTH REMEDY: Meeting People Half-Way. I organized a men's club "for the sake of the other man." Here gathered scholars and "carriage men," successful business men and odd-job men, with every other sort. Immediately segregation began. The self-possessed people fell into groups here and there, and the timid kind unerringly got together and hunted up the retired corners. Not in ten centuries will you acquire confidence by herding with timid folk. There is but one thing for the timid to do: elbow their way up to the other variety of human nature and get used to the feeling of being there. This method may seem very "forward," but forwardness is always a small vice at the worst, and in the timid person it will prove a pronounced virtue. As a matter of fact, the timid man's suggestion about "forwardness" is merely his excuse for remaining timid. So fine a degree of modesty amounts to nothing in your case. If you have that virtue "down fine," you have the vice of diffidence "up large," and life will bear a better balance. You are, therefore, urged to seek opportunities for meeting people of all sorts, as often as possible, refusing to yield to your shrinking impulses. And when the opportunity is yours, you are urged to "go half-way" or more in the meeting, for the sake of getting used to the idea and the act of making the advance, which means, a contribution toward your cure. Those whom you will meet will always be glad to receive your advance if they are worth while, and you may, by the very determination of making the advance, come finally to a beautiful indifference in regard to those who are not worth while. Indeed, you will see that the person who does not meet you in a friendly way is precisely of the other class — not at all worth anybody's while. Let no man suffer fools to upset his peace of mind.

FOURTEENTH REMEDY: Curing Fear of Criticism Timidity, diffidence, awkwardness, usually feed upon fears of possible unkind opinions beld by those one meets. Although you may not have analyzed the trouble, in your unconscious self you are afraid that others may or do think illy of you. But this means, in other words, that you are already thinking ill of other people. You meet men and women, and immediately entertain the poor opinion of them that they are thinking poorly of yourself. You can lay aside this habit. You can cultivate the habit of thinking well of others, and, hence, of assuming that they think well of you. You need not imagine that they admire you; it is enough that you cease judging them in advance as unkind critics of their fellows. You can think of them as honest, sincere, kindly disposed. This will infallibly help you. The moment one begins to entertain agreeable thoughts concerning his fellows, that moment one begins in some degree to be interested in them, and by so much to forget one's self. And then timidity and embarrassment disappear.

FIFTEENTH REMEDY: Recalling Mistaken Fears. One said to me: " When I first met you, I was afraid of you. It 's different now." But I had not changed. His former fear I laughed at. He saw at last how groundless his timidity had been — for I was merely an ordinary human being, "pegging away" at my life's work. Doubtless there are those with whom you also are now at ease but whom you once feared. You see that your timidity was a mistake and utterly useless. It is precisely so in every other case. You are there-fore urged to review your history and to profit by the errors of the past.

SIXTEENTH REMEDY: Scotching Suspicion. The timid person is almost invariably suspicious, though frequently unaware of the fact, imagining all sorts of criticism and ridicule on the part of others, and thus creating occasion for his diffidence. This condition of mind reacts, of course, upon himself. The suspicious soul telepathically suggests the superior feeling to those with whom he comes in contact, and so arouses what he fears, or induces effort to be rid of that feeling, and thus causes in them a doubly disagreeable state, superiority and the revulsion against it, which state is naturally connected with its cause. For your own sake, then, you are urged to thrust aside all suspicious feelings as indicating a mere characteristic or habit because they are unworthy of you and will surely react in an evil way against you.

SEVENTEENTH REMEDY: Ignoring Boors. The above suggestions have in mind, of course, the average quality of human nature. There are those, however, who are not amenable to the laws of courtesy, of whom one can scarcely think well and in whose affairs only saints can become interested. Against the coarse, open brutality of such people no regime is practicable, so far as timidity is concerned, save the cultivation of total indifference toward them. Timid souls would best avoid this class. If you must have dealings with them, indifference seems to be your own only recourse. It will assist you in securing that attitude if you will rem ember and always assume that you are really their superiors and therefore have no occasion for being nervous in their presence. You need to develop a mood which will make you at ease with such people, and this you can do by asserting your will-power against your tendency to timidity and in favor of your superiority above them. A suggestive sentence would insist in this way: "I will not fear you, for I am certainly your superior and have not the least occasion for timidity."

EIGHTEENTH REMEDY: Cultivating Egotism. One of the main factors in the cure of timidity consists in a comfortable feeling about one's self. You observe that the genuine egotist is never shy if he is of the assertive variety. He is not a coward; never awkward or nervous; does not know how to be gloomy or de-pressed; is incapable of laziness; will not permit him-self to be a beggar. He is courageous, easy in manner, of good nerve-tone, cheerful, hopeful, inspiring, industrious, pays as he goes. He gets on. He brings things around. He makes the world lively. He carries sunshine with him. He is alert, curious, quick, inventive, a creator of values. He is an incurable species of humanity, for he needs no cure. His egotism is an asset. The world wants him, not cured, but raw, exactly as he is. We do not like him, but we all know his worth. He thinks well of himself, for the reason that he really is something to think well of. His mood, his attitude toward himself and the whole earth as his own, are preeminently worth while. Every timid per-son who despises him might imitate his egotism with great advantage to himself. The egotist is the scared man's very best example. It is not worth while to underestimate the self. Overestimation of self, if accompanied by great and well-directed will-power and ambition, is an inexhaustible source of energy and inspiration.

You are urged, therefore, to think well of yourself. You are in the habit of thinking ill of yourself, at least in some respect related to your timidity. How can you expect others to think well of you when you depreciate your own value? You must improve your self-estimate by persistently suggesting to your deeper mind various good and admirable qualities which you possess, by enumerating frequently your pleasing traits and abilties, and by seeking to develop them and to cultivate others as they are brought to your attention. In the mean-time, you should conduct yourself exactly like a genuine egotist, ignoring all fear of criticism in ethers, and brow-beating your way through all opposition, whether created by outside agencies or by your own inner experience. In time your affected egotism will come to a reasonable balance with your natural modesty, the latter growing less and the manner of egotism imparting to your inner self a better actual self-estimate. A "new birth" will take place: you will discover the courage-soul in the room of the old timidity.

NINETEENTH REMEDY: In Touch with the White Life. Above all, one who is determined to cure in him-self these varieties of fear must keep himself in touch with the Universal Goodness. I do not refer to religious ceremonies or theological methods. This touch of harmony is as old as the race; it is harmony, with consciousness, of feeling, of thought, of will, of conduct, with the well-wishing infinite System in which we live. It is a sense of oneness with all that is good, and true, and beautiful. It is the inner possession of the White Life. That is peace, self-poise, and it means courage.

How may the touch of the White Life be secured? As frequently as may be convenient, you should go apart by yourself where quietness reigns. If this is at any time impracticable, you can shut the world away from thought, and shut yourself into yourself. Now think of your soul as the center of all existence, and proceed to imagine innumerable light-rays pouring from every point of space in toward yourself,— falling quietly and incessantly upon your innermost self's centre. Think of these light-rays not as unmeaning things coming toward you, but as forces raining into you — light, life, power, beauty, goodness, courage. When this feeling of receptivity is secured, think of yourself as living the white life, and resolve that in all things a white life you surely will become. Then send out in thought upon the countless rays of light imagined intense and honest well-wishing to every existence, animal, human, unseen — all save evil, of which think not at all. Make this communion with the White Life a daily regime. You will as certainly come to a larger life as the dawn will follow the night, and in that larger life, if you have endeavored to observe the remedies given in this chapter, will infallibly emerge a courage for people and events which will become to you as the breath of morning and the inspiration of a new discovery.

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