Revival: Nerves and Personal Power (1922)

Some Principles of Psychology as Applied to Conduct and Personal Power

D. MacDougall King

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781351334990
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: History & Theory in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

The aim of this treatise is to give the public a much needed understanding of those factors in everyday living which on the one hand tend toward nervous weakness, and on the other make for personal power. From the author's viewpoint, everybody at times suffers from symptoms which are popularly termed "nervous, " for nervousness is a matter of degree rather than kind. Whether "nerves" take the form of unreasonable impulsiveness or of serious obsessions occasioning body pain, the fundamental cause and radical cure of both are essentially the same.

PART I
FACTS

I
"Nerves" and the Premises

THERE is no denying that the last doctor consulted made a thorough examination, and, like the others, he has said: "There is nothing organically wrong; it is only 'nerves.'" Somehow the thought always seems to be implied that there is nothing really wrong, that it is all imagination, and to say the least, this is disheartening, because you and I know there is something very much wrong, and we realize that unless we discover what that something is, and take definite steps to correct it, we must continue the increasingly unhappy existence which has become daily bondage.

First of all, let us carefully examine the doctor's statement. He has said, "Nothing organically wrong." Just what does this mean? Let us suppose, as an illustration, that you frequently have trouble with your telephone. It buzzes and crackles, sometimes the conversation is cut off, frequently you are given the wrong number, or you find there are several parties trying to get a hearing at the same time. After repeated complaints, the trouble department comes to the conclusion that there may be something radically wrong, and it sends out a lineman to examine systematically the telephone, the batteries, the wires, the big cables, the switchboard, in short, every part of the mechanism. You know for a fact that the lineman is an expert at his work, and that he will recognize trouble the moment he sees it. His report is, however, that everything is in perfect order; no broken wires, no twists in the cable, the solution in the battery quite up to normal, and each part of the works just as perfect as the day it was installed. His verdict would be, "Nothing organically wrong."

Does this mean there is nothing wrong, that all the trouble you experience on the telephone is only imagination? Hardly. No one can deny that the confusion is marked, and the conversations are often muddled, and in spite of what anybody may say, you realize that you are not getting out of the telephone the satisfaction to which you are entitled.

Under the circumstances, being convinced that in the mechanism there is no trouble, no organic trouble, you are compelled to believe that the fault must lie with the personal factor of the telephone system, the central operator. We can imagine a great variety of things which might be wrong with "Central." She might not know her business! She might be listening continually to other people's advice as to how to operate the board instead of using her own common sense. Possibly, she day dreams, or may be she simply does not wish to take the trouble! We could go on and fill pages with speculations as to what the trouble with central might be; it is enough, however, that we should realize that if the discomfort we experience with the telephone is not in the works, is not organic, it must be due to faulty methods employed by the central operator.

You have recognized, of course, the analogy between the telephone system and the nervous system. In the nervous system, the senses such as the organs of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch, all are telephones through which messages are sent to headquarters. The eye and ear are like telephones in very busy stations where thousands of messages are sent daily. The nerves correspond to the wires which go from each telephone, and for the greater part converge at the great cable or spinal cord which enters the brain. The brain is analogous to the main office where the central operator, who is recognizable in the moral self, carries out its function.

It is not our purpose to try to determine just how much a thing apart from the body the moral self is, but it is important that we should realize that our body mechanism can be disturbed from the way it is run, as well as from a breakdown in the works.

Illness of any kind means that the body machine, or some part of it, has ceased to carry out its work or function in the normal healthy manner that is to its best interests. The function of any part of the body is the purpose of that part; for example, the purpose or function of the muscles is movement; the function of the heart is to pump blood to every part of the body, and so on. The function of any part of the body may be interfered with by two classes of conditions; first, mismanagement, and second, injury. The disturbance caused by doing things which are unwise, or by neglecting other things to which attention should be given, is called functional; the disturbance caused by actual injury, is organic.

It is evident that wrong methods in connection with the management of the body, if kept up long enough, will eventually cause actual injury with change in body tissues. By means of a careful examination of the body, doctors can tell to a practical certainty whether or not there is organic injury. If there be no organic injury, the illness is functional, that is to say, there is an interference with the normal working of the body machine caused by wrong living. The human body is managed by the instincts, the intellect, and the moral self. Were the intellect well informed in everything pertaining to the body's needs and the moral self quite strong in its support of the intellect, there could be no functional illness of any kind.

Consider this example of a functional disability. Tommy has discovered a pound box of chocolates, and proceeds to demolish the contents without consideration of any such wizened up thing as self control. Result: Tommy goes to bed, and the doctor who treats the nausea, etc., says, "Indigestion, caused by too many chocolates." That undoubtedly is the case, but the fact of the matter is that Tommy's stomach organically is as healthy and strong as that of an ostrich, and that part of him wherein the primary trouble lies, is not his body but his foolish self, which allowed his body to do a thing that would have put a strong man on his back. If experience, or some kind friend, does not educate Tommy's ego to control his appetite for chocolates, the indigestion will become just as persistent, just as chronic, as the opportunity to over-indulge. It will be a long, long time, however, before Tommy's stomach becomes diseased, that is, develops anything organically wrong.

This is all very simple, and day by day in the majority of ailments a doctor is called upon to treat, he is but adjusting the patient's central operator with a little education and persuasion, which is much more precious than pills and plasters. Strange though, is it not, how peeved the patient is, if the drugs are omitted!

It is a matter of interesting speculation as to just how much organic disease finds its origin in unintentional mismanagement, or neglect of the body. If we all were to live as we should, there perhaps would be no disease. Whether or not it be due to ourselves, our neighbors, or our ancestors, the fact is, however, that germs, malignant growths, continuous poisoning, and other things quite beyond our limited personal control, do attack the body machine and injure it—cause organic change in it.

After the damage is done, it is doubtful whether education can be of much avail in affecting diseased body tissues; the power of thought, however, is so remarkable in some of its manifestations that scientists are becoming less dogmatic in negative statements concerning it. We are at any rate on safe ground in asserting that, even in chronic organic disease, especially if there be nervous symptoms, and there nearly always are, a realization of the truth with regard to "nerves" may prove a wonderful help in effecting a cure, and in making life more worth living.

The doctor's statement, "nothing organically wrong," means that whatever discomfort you experience in your body or mind is not occasioned by any breakdown in the body's mechanism. There is no disease in the back, in the brain, heart, liver, stomach or in the body as a whole. All your tiredness, pains and depressing thoughts are due to imperfect functioning on the part of the body's organs. The imperfect functioning is accounted for by the way your self runs the body machine. In other words, in your habits of living lies the fundamental cause of all your troubles.

One of the most important laws of medical science is that the cause, that is to say the fundamental mental cause of any disability, is the thing which, above all else, should be treated. Obviously if the cause can be removed, the symptoms will vanish. To treat pains and depression and tiredness without concerning oneself with the fundamental cause, is like smothering smoke in an effort to put out fire.

From these facts it is apparent that while medicines may temporarily alleviate the discomfort caused by a wrong way of living, a permanent cure is to be found, first, by weeding out misconceptions and replacing them with true information; and second, which is more difficult, by putting the truth into daily practice. Know also, for a fact, that every functional disability, that is, every illness where there is nothing organically wrong, can be cured, and will be cured, just as soon as the intellect understands and the moral self makes the body conform to right living principles.

The second part of the doctor's statement to the effect that it is "only nerves" which are responsible for your troubles, seems in some ways to be a contradiction to the fact that there is nothing organically wrong. It is as though the lineman in the telephone service had said, "There is nothing broken in the mechanism, it is only wires" Obviously, this is ridiculous, and the only excuse for the use of the term "nerves'" is that the directing mind element or self belongs to the nervous system in the same way as the central operator is a part of the telephone system.

Your nerves are just as strong and perfect in every way as are the wires of the telephone system. They carry messages quite as accurately, and their function or purpose is really less easily affected than the function of other organs.

Fortunately, the diagnosis, "nerves," even if it be a misnomer, limits the great range of possible causes to something you can realize, something you can combat, something you can cure.

The life of the human body is supported and carried on by a number of clearly defined systems which work for the well-being of the individual. For example, there is the muscular system, the digestive system, the respiratory system, and so on. When illness overtakes the body, the point of attack is not the body as a whole, as many suppose, but usually just one definite system. On the other hand, it is quite exceptional for one system to be the point of attack without, sooner or later, one or more of the other systems suffering from the derangement in the first. For example, when Tommy demolished the pound of chocolates, the point of attack was the digestive system, but it was not long before the disturbed digestive system affected the muscular system and Tommy felt weak, the circulatory system and Tommy became pale, the nervous system and a rise in temperature took place.

If trouble with the digestive system causes disturbance in other systems, even more so does an untrue or distorted habit of thought and conduct affect different parts of the body. One has but to recall the analogy of the telephone system to realize how every cubic inch of the body is in intimate association with the mind through the nervous system—is literally attached to the brain with nerve threads, just as each telephone is attached to headquarters with a wire. When, therefore, the seat of trouble is in central headquarters, it is not surprising that the effects should manifest themselves in any and every part of the body to which a nerve travels.

If unhealthy mental conditions cause an upset in systems other than the nervous, of course, in its turn, that upset is capable of coming back at the nervous system and causing still more mental distress. Thus in the body there becomes established a "vicious circle"—a society for the mutual adversity of associated systems!

Such a condition sooner or later becomes intolerable, and there arises a determination to cease cavilling about persistent thoughts, tiredness, irritability, and depression, which after all, are only effects, and to grapple with the primary cause—to break in on the vicious circle at the place where it has its origin.

Anybody who tries to persuade you that the symptoms of which you complain are not real does not understand the situation. When you suffer, there is no denying that the suffering is bona fide. This, however, is not the point, and your suffering will continue just as long as you make it the chief consideration. If you are to get well, you must realize that your whole consideration must be given to the cause of your troubles, and that your symptoms, whatever or wherever they may be, are of so little importance in comparison with the cause, that they can be quite ignored. Doubtless from time to time the symptoms will force themselves upon your attention, but know, as surely as you are reading this book, that if you will grapple as you should with the cause, the symptoms

"Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away."

We start from the premises that you have had a careful examination by the doctor; that he has said that you have nothing organically wrong, or if you have organic trouble, he is treating it. He will make clear to you which symptoms are accounted for by organic body changes. All other symptoms are functional, and will, you may rest assured, disappear one by one as you comprehend and put into practice the principles set forth in the following pages.

II
The Nervous Machine

WE have traced the general cause of nervousness to the place where it has its origin. We find that the trouble centres about the manner in which the moral self carries out its function or purpose. Because the moral self does not make the body carry out its work in keeping with wise principles, the body and mind are made to suffer. What, then, is the function of the moral self, and how and where is it failing to achieve what the body as a whole looks to it to do? To give a clear conception of this, it is necessary first that we should understand something of the mechanism the moral self is called upon to control.

Long, long ago, at the time which, in Genesis, is described as the fourth and fifth day or period, when living things first existed on this world, life was so comparatively simple that one can readily grasp something of the workings of the elemental nerve processes which, millions of years later, evolved into the mechanism underlying that elusive complexity we call the personality.

To-day, even as in the long ago, the most primitive living thing consists of but a single cell. While quite incapable of doing anything on its own account, the cell possesses within itself the power of repeatedly showing response to one or more of the great forces of nature which stimulate it. It is endowed with a wonderful form of energy—the energy of life.

With every response to an outside stimulus, some of the living substance of the cell is consumed. The living substance is replenished by food materials which the cell absorbs. So it is that in this microscopic unit of life may be found the same principle of income and expenditure of living energy that governs every one of the billions of living cells which make up the human body.

In the beginning, when life first materialized itself in matter, it would have been difficult to distinguish one living cell from another. As time went on, the energy of life, growing ever larger and fuller, reached out in many directions, generally with success, but sometimes with failure. Always there was division of cells, with each part retaining something of the original, but losing in one direction while gaining in another. In this way there came about a division into the vegetable and animal kingdoms, each retaining much in common but differing in tendency, the vegetable drifting toward stability, the animal toward conscious mobility.

Each body of living cells is virtually a community of co-operating units, and it is the tendency of certain groups of cells in each body more and more to become specialists in some line of work, that is, to develop a special function which will be helpful to every other group in the community. Of cells which comprise animal life, one group which lies on the outside of the body becomes somewhat hardened, and forms a protective covering which we recognize as the skin. Another group become especially concerned in the matter of movement; the cells of this group constitute muscle fibres. A third group, called nerve cells, is engaged in catching up stimuli from without, and conveying such stimuli to the muscles.

In conformity with the requirements of the special work which cells are called upon to perform, the shape, colour, and general appearance of each group, are altered and become characteristic. Under the microscope, the cells which comprise the skin call to mind the various bricks, blocks, and flag stones used in pavements. The muscle cells resemble striped elastic bands, and a nerve cell may be likened to a tree with a very long trunk or to a diminutive devil-fish which has one very long tentacle or axon, and a number of short tentacles called dendrons.

The work of the body of a nerve cell seems to be simply to keep its axons and dendrons supplied with nourishment, while the axon and dendrons afford an excellent conducting medium along which impulses travel. So long is the axon that in some cases, as in a tall man, it may extend several feet It is finer than the finest filament of silk, and sometimes has a few branches. When bound together in great numbers, the axons of nerve cells form a glossy white strand which is recognized by the naked eye as a nerve. A nerve has little more function than a telephone wire. Simply it is a conductor of stimuli. An electric current applied to it anywhere in its course, will give rise to an impulse which will travel along the nerve at the rate of several yards a second.

The functioning or working portion of nerve elements seems to be located at the spot where the dendrons of one nerve cell form a junction with the dendrons of another. The junction is called a synapse. The dendrons of two nerve cells form a synapse just as the tops of two trees might cross or intertwine their branches; or, to hold to the analogy of the devil-fish, just as two such creatures might interlace their tentacles. When an impulse of sufficient strength reaches a synapse, it touches off, as it were, another impulse or series of them.

At the point where an axon, that is, a long tentacle of the nerve cell, reaches the surface of the body, there is attached to its end a microscopic receiver for stimuli from outside the body. The receiver is called a sense organ. When some form of energy, as for example a touch, comes in contact with the skin, the receiver or sense organ receives the stimulus, and through a minute explosion, that is through chemical changes within itsel...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Original Title
• Original Copyright
• Contents
• PART I—FACTS
• PART II—FACTS IGNORED
• PART III—FACTS APPLIED
• INDEX