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HEALING: THE DIVINE ART |
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PART ONE: THE HISTORICAL ROAD TO THE METAPHYSICS OF MEDICINE INTRODUCTION SICKNESS, in ancient times, was due largely to ignorance of the physical laws governing health. In the modern world, sickness is more often the result of ignorance of the laws governing the spiritual, mental, and emotional forces operating in people's lives. In our effort to conquer externals we have failed to meet the challenge of the internal existence. In remote times the tribes which inhabited the earth were mostly nomadic. They migrated, sometimes considerable distances, in search of better hunting or more fertile fields, driven from their old homes by scarcity of game or impoverished soil. By their wanderings these savages escaped many of the diseases which afflict modern mankind. When these nomads began to establish permanent communities their health problems increased immediately. The wanderer had left his refuse behind and moved into a healthier environment, but the builder of cities piled his refuse on the outskirts of the old towns and villages, and here a great part of the sickness that still plagues our race had its origin. It is only within the last hundred years that the sanitation problems of the large city have been solved. The sixteenth century Florentines drove herds of swine through the streets of Florence to scavenge the filth that was thrown from the windows of both palaces and humble dwellings. The swine were later butchered and eaten. Conditions in Venice were so bad that most of the Doges contracted smallpox, even in the luxurious surroundings of the Ducal Palace. London had very little sanitation as late as the end of the eighteenth century. Improper nutrition also played a large part in the health problems of our remote ancestors. They depended upon seasonal hunting for most of their food, and had no adequate way of preserving meat. Explorers have described how the less advanced natives of certain African tribes, especially the pygmies, will devour raw the putrifying remains of an animal that has lain dead for days in a tropical jungle. A diet of partly decomposed fish is now regarded as responsible for some of the most dreaded diseases of Asia, including the leprosy so common in China. Were it not that nature had met this challenge of wrong diet with the mechanism of immunities, it is doubtful if the human species could have survived. Ventilation was another mystery to our noble forebears. Their caves and dens never were touched by the purifying rays of the sun, and cross ventilation was utterly beyond their comprehension. And when men began to build houses, their principal concern was protection; and every unnecessary aperture was only another hazard. Not until the present century did laws enacted and enforced make adequate ventilation compulsory in private dwellings, factories and public buildings. And many were the private protests to this extravagant procedure. Infant mortality has always been high among primitive people. This is not alone because of the natural hazards, but the very process of birth has usually been involved in religious ceremonials and rituals not always conducive to the survival of the mother or the offspring. The queens of Egypt were required by the state to be delivered of their children in a public ceremony, while seated on the Birth Throne. Beating was widely used among savage tribes to hasten childbirth. Medieval physicians found it entirely beneath their dignity to attend a confinement, unless the parents were of royal or noble estate. There is a reputable account of a hog-gelder being called in to perform a Caesarian section. More recently, midwives carried blunderbusses which they fired close to the expectant mother's ear to hasten delivery. Surgery and bone-setting were among the brighter spots in ancient medical practice. Injuries suffered in war and while hunting took a dreadful toll in the good old times. This class of physical misfortune was probably the first to receive intelligent attention. The causes of such injuries were obvious, and there was less of the mysterious to hinder consideration of the facts. The Edwin Smith Papyrus indicates that the Egyptians had an excellent understanding of surgery at least two thousand years before the Christian Era. Examinations of ancient, possibly prehistoric, skulls show that even trepanning was performed successfully at a remote time. Also, several excellent examples of early dentistry are known in which teeth were filled with inlays of precious or semiprecious stones. In the last two thousand years mankind's material knowledge has increased so greatly that most of the natural hazards which afflicted the ancient human being have been overcome. No longer do we fear the ghosts and spirits that burdened the lives of the untutored savages of the old world. We have every right to be proud of our achievement, but despite this boasted progress, man still sickens, suffers, and dies. And sad to say, much of his misfortune is the result of superstitions and traditions as senseless and deadly as those which afflicted primitive races. The city is an interesting example of the survival of an ancient tradition which is no longer significant. That grand old book of symbols, the Bible, makes Cain, the fratricide, to be the first builder of cities. There was nothing cultural or esthetic in the impulse to create large communities; the motive was fear, and the desire for mutual protection. Most ancient towns were walled, and men huddled within these walls to find safety from invading armies and marauding hands of brigands. The invention of artillery ended the age of the walled cities, but habit caused the continuance of the huddling process, even after these towns had proved to be nothing but death-traps for their inhabitants. The walled towns of early days were little more than villages. Great cities were unknown in the ancient world. The large community presented problems which even the classical Greeks, wise in so many arts and sciences, were never able to solve. It remained for the Romans to devise the elaborate system of aqueducts and sewers that made feasible the modern metropolis. Although the great cities of today rise as monuments to human ingenuity, they still are a serious menace to the health of the race. The large community brings with it unhealthful congestion, emphasizes poverty, and is a natural breeding place for crime. The vocations and the avocations, amusements and recreations of the city dweller are artificial. Locked in a man-made world, he has lost contact with the God-made universe. No simple Adamite ever groveled before the grotesque jujus of his devil cult with a blinder devotion than that with which the modern man venerates the superstition of wealth. The theory of accumulation has blighted the whole course of our civilization. It has turned every man against his brother, and filled the world with a terrible fear. No longer is it the old blind fear of the unknown, but a new and tangible terror, the sickening realization that survival itself is threatened by human selfishness. Savage men feared the mysterious forces of nature, but civilized men fear each other, for they have learned that the human being himself is the most dangerous of all creatures. Unfortunately the concept of wealth is responsible for the greater part of man's inhumanity to man. The free villages in the Andes Mountains are completely socialized communities. They are entirely untouched by our economic theories and function according to the old Inca laws. These free villages produce solely for use, and the profit system is unknown in them. The citizens cooperate in all undertakings, and there is no poverty and practically no crime. These small mountain villages were untouched by the great depression of 1929, for the simple reason that there was no debt. It is usual for the economist to dismiss these socialized communities as unimportant, and to insist that it would not be possible to apply such rules to large cities or nations. These arguments may be true, but the evidence is conclusive that cooperative living is the one solution for the economic fear complex that is destroying the health and peace of mind of the so-called civilized races. In an order of living based on a doctrine of debt, nervous ailments are bound to increase. Insecurity is the normal heritage, and each man must struggle throughout his days to maintain some semblance of physical success. There is little time for healthful repose in any family where one serious illness may destroy the economic stability of three generations. It is small wonder that strange and obscure diseases flourish in such an atmosphere. Need it be said that the Divine Power that administrates universal nature is influenced in no way by man's financial aspirations. The whole mechanics of accumulation is a human invention, and has no significance outside of the human sphere. If men wish to create little symbols on metal or paper, worship them, and fight, cheat, and kill for them, that is a matter of no interest in the wider vistas of Space. An all-wise providence has placed at the disposal of the human race all that is necessary to ensure peace, happiness, health, and security. If mortals prefer to wrangle over debits and credits in a universe filled with life and beauty, their rewards will be according to the demerits of their works. The principal phobias of the modern man are closely related to the false belief to which he is addicted. Prominent among the popular phobias are: fear of poverty, fear of old age, fear of war, fear of financial failure, fear of sickness, and fear of death. All of these fears are closely related to the financial state. We fear poverty because it threatens the survival of everything that is important to our outward lives; we fear old age because it results in unemployment and consequent dependence; we may fear war for a number of reasons, but one of them is the resulting economic upheaval. We fear financial failure as one of the greatest disasters possible to an individual. We fear sickness because it endangers our economic productivity. And we fear death because it may leave our loved ones without adequate provision. All too many of our fears are interpreted in terms of money, and life itself is measured in years of earning power. It is not difficult to understand that the conscious or subconscious tension due to constant fear is detrimental to health and life. The result is the great American disease -- nerves. A great East Indian scholar, whom I knew in Calcutta, made several pertinent remarks on the subject of nerve tension. He said, in substance: It is impossible for the mental life of man to unfold naturally and normally toward a state of enlightenment unless the physical environment be simplified in every possible way. Creative thought must come from an environment which does not interfere with the sensitive impulses, which flow from the mind through the ethers and into the brain. Confusion, stress, tension, interruption, noise, the constant vibratory agitation present in the surroundings of the average Occidental, make it practically impossible for him to think in a manner solutional to his personal problems. When I suggested that this wise old Asiatic should visit America, the kindly gentleman was horrified at the prospect. He exclaimed: "But I could not think in America; and if I cannot think, I am dead. To think is to live; and to exist without thinking is to be less than an animal; I will remain where I am, where I can sit quietly under my favorite tree and commune with nature." Nerves manifest disturbance to their structure and function in a wide variety of ways. The more obvious disorders can be diagnosed with reasonable accuracy, and a number of baffling symptoms are summed up under the general term, nervous break-down. Unfortunately however, nervous exhaustion and extreme nerve over-stimulation, are quite likely to work out through a series of obscure and extremely complicated mental and emotional abnormalities. Once the nerves have been whipped by the tension of their environment, the whole personality loses the power to relax into a normal rhythm of living, and the result is revealed through dispositional peculiarities. Among Western peoples there is a popular belief that a bad disposition is a normal and proper thing to have. Excitability, irritability, and violent outbursts of temper are summed up under the term, temperament. It seldom occurs to a person suffering from temperament that there is anything that he can do to correct his own faults. Persons who have come to me for help become aghast at the prospect of attempting to practice self-control. When told that a bad temper is the cause of the trouble, they will invariably answer, "I know I shouldn't have such spells, but I can't help it." Disposition of course reacts strongly into the body, disordering its functions and even attacking the structure itself. It is impossible for any person to escape the consequences of his own attitudes, as these attitudes affect his bodily harmony. In early life, the human being is sustained by a powerful reserve of physical energy. This is especially evident in children, who are never still and bubble-over with an apparently inexhaustible supply of vitality. Mental and emotional habits acquired in youth are not usually obvious in their consequences until after middle life. Gradually, as the supply of vital force diminishes, the body begins to exhibit the rewards of the various mental and emotional intemperances with which it has been afflicted. Chronic dispositional tendencies result in chronic physical ailments. The peculiarities of disposition, as we nurse them through the years, set in upon us as bodily ailments, afflicting our later years with innumerable misfortunes which destroy our happiness and peace of mind. Nowhere throughout nature is the working of the law of cause and effect more evident than in problems of physical health. Take cancer for example. I have been able to assemble a large number of case histories which indicate that cancer is a grief disease. It is most likely to arise in the individual who has locked his disappointments, sorrows, and hurts within himself. Grief eats up the normal optimism of human nature, producing in the consciousness a condition identical with that which cancer sets up in the body. As women are more likely to nourish in silence the grieving of their hearts, the ailment is particularly prevalent among them. In three cases that I know of, a deep self-censoring remorse was followed within a year by cancer of the breast, and in each case history no cancer was known in the heredity. Diabetes, in my experience, is often associated with a hypocritical reaction to the circumstances of life. The individual who demands of others a degree of perfection totally absent within himself, and then builds up from his disappointments a negative and cynical disposition, is an easy victim of both diabetes and chronic kidney trouble. Rheumatism and arthritis are present in personalities incapable of adjusting to change. Several cases are known to me in which severe attacks of these diseases have been quickly improved by releasing the mind from the tension of trying to preserve a status quo in an ever changing world. An old lady whom I once knew was resolved to maintain her mid-Victorian traditions in the twentieth century. As late as 1920 this quaint character refused to ride in street cars, would have neither electric lights nor a telephone, and dressed in the fashion of 1870. She would have no part in that motion of progress which she was convinced was leading the world directly to perdition. The orthodoxy of her religious viewpoints was unassailable, and she crept about town suffering with rheumatics in every joint. At last through a series of curious circumstances this old lady was rejuvenated. Near her 80th year she gave up the fight to preserve the old way of life, and blossomed forth with a progressiveness of spirit that startled the entire community. Six months later the rheumatism was gone, and she enjoyed the best of health until her 94th year. Chronic stomach trouble is most frequently found among the worriers and those whose delicate egos are easily bruised. Nervous stomach trouble is a difficult ailment to bear gracefully, but if the mind can be directed to become less critical of others, more tolerant in its viewpoints, the digestion will immediately show a marked improvement. While all sickness cannot be traced to disposition, it can be said with accuracy that all persons with bad dispositions are sick. A bad disposition is one of the heaviest burdens that the flesh can bear. Our nervous folk often build up destructive tension around the simplest processes of their living. This tension distorts and deforms otherwise useful and noble beliefs and convictions. Religion, for example, must be approached with a normal optimist's attitude, or the believer soon finds himself in serious trouble. Most of the fanaticism, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, so obvious among those addicted to religious convictions, are the result of nerve tension manifesting in the sphere of spiritual beliefs. Religion is extremely dangerous for the neurotic, for it will set their neurosis in a peculiarly disastrous channel. Yet, it is the neurotic who is most likely to seek consolation in religion. It is an old philosophical truth that the human being must bring normalcy to any subject which he wishes to consider, or he will fail in that subject. In our Western theory of education we have overlooked the part that the individual himself plays in the arts or sciences which he is studying. For example, medicine is more than a science; it is a way of living; and only the man who lives according to the philosophy of medicine can become a great doctor. Music is not merely a technique; a musicologist, one who is experienced in the whole theory of music, must live the life of music to gain the full benefit of musical education. We cannot bring an old way of life to a new art without destroying that art by the limitations of our own consciousness. Of all the arts and sciences, life itself is the greatest and most profound. It takes many years to train a physician, or a lawyer, in the particulars of his profession; but it requires many lives of experience and thoughtfulness to bring a human being into the fullness of his own humanity. In order to be a successful human being, a man must study the laws which govern his development, and then apply those laws to every aspect of his living. Only when a man lives intelligently, simply, efficiently, and with gentleness of spirit can he be mentally wise, emotionally happy, or physically healthy. To the degree that he compromises truth, to that degree he will be sick. Philosophy, therefore, is preventive medicine. Philosophy teaches thus of health, and how it can be preserved, and if lost, how it can be regained. The beginning of health is the discovery of the gods. Our personal living is based upon our conviction concerning the nature of Eternal Being. When we can perceive behind visible nature a Universal Principle of good accomplishing all things through wisdom, strength, and beauty, we free our minds from those several doubts concerning providence. These inwardly discovered certainties bestow the courage necessary for right action, thus establishing the mind in harmony and peace. The second necessary element in a normal philosophy of life is the realization of the eternity of the self, and the understanding of the great law of evolution through which all lives are growing up toward perfection. There must be a sense of participation in the growth and unfoldment everywhere visible in nature. The purpose of life is growth. And a man is successful to the degree that he develops character in harmony with the laws of the world of which he is a part. The third consideration involves the sharing of what we are, and what we have, with others of our kind. Cooperation, friendship, and the constructive emotions which bring human beings into a closer concord are important as elements in a philosophy of health. The last consideration is that of leisure; haste and stress must be eliminated from the technique of living. The civilized human being is one who has discovered the dignity of leisure, and it is this discovery which made the Greeks, Hindus, and Chinese great in philosophy, art, and literature. There must be time, rescued from less important pursuits to be devoted to the culturing of the self. It is this freedom from tension that brings with it non-resistance to ideas, and those seasons of contemplation which are a part of true maturity. If we would be well in mind and body, we must free ourselves from the delusion of a materialistic civilization and renounce as unliveable the prevailing custom of haste, ambition, avarice, and competition. Each man must suffer his own pain, and we will be afflicted by the sins of our world to the degree that we permit ourselves to cooperate with the pattern of the world's mistakes. Health is precious to every human being, for without it even the noblest of ambitions are difficult of realization. But nature, always scheming toward the right, reserves health as a reward for those who do other things well. Health cannot be achieved by direct effort alone; it must be a consequence of action -- the result of an adequate cause. The secret of healing is to cause health by removing those artificial obstacles which impede the natural flow of life. |