shindar1016

The first requirement of effective living is that we should have some sort of aim. General speaking, the difference between a successful person and an unsuccessful  one is that the former knows what he wants, and bends every efforts towards securing that end, while the latter has only a vague idea of what it is he is trying to do with his life. Such a person may have daydreams in plenty, may wish vaguely to be and do this, that, and the other, but that is a vastly different thing from having a definite objective in living—an all-constraining aim towards which all interest and effort are directed.

    Ask half a dozen people what their aim in life is. You will be amazed to discover how greatly most of them will be taken by surprise at the question. What is your own dominant aim/ What do you want to do and be, more than anything else in the world? Unless you can answer this question, at once in a few crisp sentences, you have not really started on the path of successful living.

     The aim need not be anything very startling like making a fortune, or establishing a nation-wide chain of business, or writing a best-seller. It may be to widen your general culture by ordered and regular reading. It may be to become as efficient as you possibly can be in your own job, even though that job is a limited one. It may be engage in some sort of voluntary social service. It may be lay in your own home the basis of a truly happy family.

   Any one of these aims could become an engrossing and satisfying pursuit, greatly enriching your own life, and that of the community in which you live. The human spirit is capable of almost inconceivable triumphs. We shall save ourselves some unnecessary frustration and heart-break, however, if we choose an aim which is reasonably within the scope of the powers with which we have been endowed.

    Once the aim is fixed, we must be willing to undergo the necessary discipline, and attain the necessary knowledge and competency to fulfill it. Somebody once said:” Genius is 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.” Many people fail to achieve their object because, while enamoured of the aim, they are less enamoured of the effort required in its fulfillment. They think how lovely it would be to play like Paderewski, but they are not willing to practice long hours daily as he did. They dream of writing a best-seller, or of having their name in lights, but imagine that such things can be achieved simply by thinking about them.

    Whatever our aim, we need an insatiable thirst for knowledge about it. On the tombstone of a famous scholar are the words:” He died learning.” Learned as he was, he never imagined that he knew everything that was to be known. But mere theoretical knowledge is not enough. The runner needs to know all about the science of starting, about poise, about breathing. But he learns to run by running. So , too, the artist will learn about perspective, anatomy, color-blending and much besides, but he perfects his art by painting!

    No aim can be achieved without determination. The difficulties that can be overcome, the problems that can be solved, and that success that can be achieved by the exercise of the will, are simply astonishing. Here lies one of the truly dynamic powers of human spirit. But coupled with the will there must be an emotional drive of imagination, too. The interest and enthusiasm with which we give ourselves to the task in hand determine to a large extent the measure of success we shall achieve. We do best those things which we love doing.

A person may have an idea about himself what will prevent him from doing work. He may have the idea that he is not capable of it. T is easy to get such an idea even though there is not justification for it. A child may think he is stupid because he does not understand how to make the most of his mental faculties, or he may accept another person’s mistaken estimate of his ability. Older people may be handicapped by the mistaken belief that they are incapable of learning anything new because of their age. A person who believes that he is incapable will not make a real effort, because he feels that is would be useless. He won’t go at a job with the confidence necessary for success, and he won’t work his hardest, even though he may think he is doing so. He therefore is likely to fail, and the failure will strengthen his belief in his incompetence.

    Alfred Alder, a famous psychiatrist, had an experience which illustrates this. When he was a small boy he got off to a poor start in arithmetic. His teacher got the idea that he had no ability in arithmetic, and told his parents what she thought in order that they would not expect too much of him. In this way, they too developed the idea, “Isn’t it too bad that Alfred can’t do arithmetic?” He accepted their mistaken estimate of his ability, felt that it was useless to try, and was very poor in arithmetic, just as they expected. One day he become very angry at the teacher and the other students because they laughed when he said he saw how to do a problem which none of the other students had been able to solve.

    Alfred succeeded in solving the problem. This gave him confidence. He rejected the idea that he couldn’t do arithmetic, and was determined to show them that he could. His anger and his newfound confidences stimulated him to go at arithmetic problem with a spirit. He now worked with interest, determination, and purpose, and he soon became extraordinarily good in arithmetic. He not only proved tat he could do arithmetic, but he learned early in life from his own experience that, if a person does at a job with determination and purpose, he may astonish himself as well another by his ability.

    This experience made him realize that many people have more ability than they have, and that lack of success is as often the result of lack of knowledge of how to apply one’s ability, lack of confidence, and lack of determination as it is the result of lack of ability.

People often wonder why historians go to so much trouble to preserve millions of books, documents and records of the past. Why do we have libraries? What good are these documents and the history books? Why do we record and save the actions of men, the negotiations of statesmen and the campaigns of armies? Because, sometimes, the voice of experience can cause us to stop, look and listen. And because, sometimes, past records, correctly interpreted, can give us warning of what to do and what not to do.

    If we are ever to create enduring peace, we must seek its origins in human experience and in the record of human idealism. From the story of the fortitude, courage and devotion of men and women, we create the inspiration pf youth. From stories of the Christian martyrs, right down to Budapest’s heroic martyrs of today, history records the suffering, the self-denial, the devotion and the heroic deeds of men. Surely from these records there can come help to mankind in our confusions and perplexities, and in our yearnings for peace.

    The supreme purpose of history is a better world. History gives a warning to those who would promote war. History brings inspiration to those who seek peace. In short, history helps us learn. Yesterday’s record can keeps from repeating yesterday’s mistakes. And from the pieces of mosaic assembled by historians come the great murals which represent the progress of mankind.

The lack of opportunity is ever the excuse of a weak, vacillating mind. Opportunity! Every life is full of them. Every lesson in school or college is an opportunity. Every examination is a chance in life. Every business transaction is an opportunity ----an opportunity to be polite, an opportunity to be manly, an opportunity to be honest, an opportunity to make friends. Every responsibility thrust upon your strength and your honor is priceless. Existence is the privilege of effort, and when that privilege is met like a man, opportunities to succeed along the line of your aptitude will come faster than you can use them.

    Young men and women, why do you stand here all the day idle? Was the land occupied before you were born? Has the earth ceased to yield its increase? Are the seats all taken? The position all friend? The position all filled? The chances all gone? Are the resource of your country fully developed? Are the secrets of nature all mastered? Is there no way in which you can utilize these passing moments to improve yourself or benefits another?

   Don’t wait for your opportunity. Make it, make it as Napoleon made his in hundred “impossible” situations. Make it, as all leaders of men, in war and in peace, have made their chances of success. Make it, as every man must, who would accomplish anything worth the effort. Golden opportunities are nothing to laziness, but industry makes the commonest chances golden.

Wherever you are, and whoever you may be, there is one thing in which you and I are just alike at this moment, and in all the moment of our existence. We are not at rest; we are on a journey. Our life is a movement, a tendency, a steady, ceaseless progress towards an unseen goal. We are gaining something, or losing something, everyday. Even when our position and our character seem to remain precisely the same, they are changing. For the mere advance of time is a change. It is not the same thing to have a bare field in January and in July. The season makes the difference. The limitations that are childlike in the child are childish in the man.

    Everything that we do is a step in one direction or another. Even the failure to do something is in itself a deed. It sets us forward or backward. The action of the negative pole of a magnetic needle is just as real as the action of the positive pole. To decline is to accept—the other alternative. Are you nearer to your port today than you were yesterday? Yes,----you must be a little nearer to some port or other; for since your ship was first launched upon the sea of life, you have never been still for a single moment; the sea is too deep you could not find an anchorage if you would; there can be no pause until you can’t come into port.

He is a fool who can’t be angry, but he is really a wise man who will not. The habit of keeping pleasant is indeed better than an income of a thousand dollars a year. The life without cheerfulness is like the severe winter without the sun. We all love cheerful company, but we are apt to forget that cheerfulness is a habit which can be cultivated by all. We find it very difficult to be gay when we are in distress. It requires great courage. We should never forget that to be cheerful when it is not easy to be cheerful shows greatness. Thorny may be our way, but how happy is the conqueror’s song!

The perfection of the cheerfulness consists in the happy frame of mind. It is displayed in good temper and kind behavior. It arises partly form personal goodness and partly from belief in the goodness of others. It sees the glory in the grass and the sunshine on the flower, and lives in an atmosphere of peace. It costs nothing, and yet it is invaluable. It blesses it possessor and affords a large measure of enjoyment to others.

Orison Sweet Mardon, 1906, American Lawyer

Are you dissatisfied with today’s success? It is the harvest from yesterday’ sowing. Do you dream of a golden morrow? You will reap what you are sowing today. We get out of life just what we put into it. Nature takes on our moods: she laughs with those who weep. If we rejoice and are glad the very birds sing more sweetly, the woods and streams murmur our song. But if we are sad and sorrowful a sudden gloom falls upon Nature’s face; the sun shines, but not in our hearts, the birds sing, but not to us. The future will be just what we make it. Our purpose will give it its character, One’s resolution is one’s prophecy. Leave all your discouraging pessimism behind. Do not prophesy evil, but good. Men of hope come to the front.

All animals live. But only man has bay control over how he lives. Man lives according to his understanding of the meaning of life. Therefore, to be ignorant is to remain an animal, and not become a man. Ignorance is not the lack of a high school or college diploma. It is the lack of understanding of the meaning of life. Understanding can’t be transmitted from one person to another. It has to be born and nourished in each separate individual. All that can be transmitted is knowledge. Knowledge consists of facts about earth and air, the seas and the heavens, man and nature. These facts can be transmitted, and in the formal places of instruction, the schools, this is done. What facts are available about how man understands can also be transmitted. But understanding itself can’t be transmitted. To reach understanding you must digest the facts you have accumulated and adjust them into a pattern so that all the facts fit together and none seem to contradict each other. Understanding is the process of making sense out of what you know. You must acquire facts before you can fit them together, so you need to acquire knowledge. You may even acquire the clue of how to fit the pieces of the puzzle of life together, by studying what others have believed. But you must accept or reject these clues that come to you and make your own decision about the meaning of life. This is understanding.

    If you don’t press on to this personal decision you remain ignorant. You are no different from the dog who learn run through the passages of a maze to get the meat that awaits him if he takes the right turnings. You can acquire the specialized knowledge of a lawyer, an economist, an engineer, or a doctor and use it successfully enough to support yourself and your family. But this is the animal’s reward for having acquired the conditioned reflexes that will guide him through the maze. To look up from the maze and contemplate the mountains and the seas and the distant stars, to know man’s place in all this, and feel at home---this is the way of the human animal. This way requires understanding.

    If you don’t want to merely run through a maze all your life you must sit back and digest the knowledge you acquire. So much at you so quickly when you are a student that it sometimes threatens to swamp you. This is the most dangerous time. You must weigh and judge for yourself. This is more difficult now but it is the only way to become wise, the only way to realize what it means to be a human being.  

And now let me give six pieces of specific advice upon your reading: First, read with sympathy, casting out prejudices and giving yourselves up wholly to the will of the writer. You must feel him, know him. “When I am reading a book,” said Dean Swift, “whether wise or silly, it seems to be alive and talking to me.” There was a man who had the art of reading. Second, do not worry too much about allusion you do not understand, or pay too much attention to notes and the commentary of scholars. This writing id for you: do not let some pedant step between you and your friend, the writer. Third, read about as much as possible. Your roommate, your wife, your sweetheart, your best friend will probably be glad to listen to you. You will be surprised to find how much more pleasure you get from reading by sharing it. Moreover, reading aloud is valuable aid to interpretation. Hardness O’Grady, an English teacher of speech, in a little book called Reading Aloud, after pointing out how much attention writers give to the sound of their words and phrases, urges the reader to do his part as thoroughly. First by taking in with his eyes the written word, next by saying aloud the sounds the compose the words and the rhythms of the sentences, he will, in reverse order,

put himself on the same place as the author: he will be imitating those mechanical actions which were the concrete translation of the author’s innermost being.

    Fourth, re-read the parts you like best. You will discover new meanings, new beauties, each time you go over a great book, and it will become more and more your own. Fifth, if the volume you are reading is your own, don’t hesitate to mark in the margin the passages that appeal to you. My reason for giving this counsel may be briefly stated thus: You are collaborating with the writer when you read his book. Your experience, ideas, and feelings join with his in producing the total effect of the book. Now if you mark the book, you are leaving an actual physical record of that collaboration; you have stamped the book as your own many of the books you read, and that you will stamp them with evidence of your ownership of them.

    Six, and last, think back. Consider what you have read in the light of the whole. Discuss it with  your reading partner, or with whomever you can get to listen. As to notes on your reading, do not make them if they seem onerous to you. Some people, however, find making a few notes enlightening and helpful. The flyleaves of the book are a good place. There is nothing scared about the physical book: it is for use.

A man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.

   A good book may be among the best friends. It is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. It is the most patient and cheerful of companions. It does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. It always receives us with the same kindness, amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.

   Men often discover their affinity to each other by the love they have each for a book. The book is a truer and higher bond of union. Men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. They live in him together and he, in them.

   A good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man’s life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. Thus the best books sre treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remember and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.

   Books possess an essence of immortality. They are by far the most lasting products of human effort. Temples and statues decay, but books survive. Time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author’s mind, ages ago. What was then said and thought still speak to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. The only effect of time has been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive but what is really good.

    Books introduce us into the best society, they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. We hear what they said and did; we see them as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.

"On Studies" by Francis Bacon,1561~1626,English phlosopher and Statesman

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshaling od affairs come best from those that are learned.

     To spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for ornament id affectation;

to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by the experience, for natural abilities are like natural plants that need pruning by study; and studies themselves give forth directions too much at large, except they are bounded by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men them; for they teach not their own use; but that is wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation.

    Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested: that is, some books are to be read only in parts ; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Reading makes a full man; conference a ready man and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man writes little, he needs to have a great memory ;if he confers little, he needs to have much cunning, to seem to know that he does not.

Histories makes men wise; poets , witty; the mathematics, subtle, natural philosophy, deep; moral,

grave; logic and rhetoric, able to contend,....So every defect of the mind may have a special receipt.