I began to think of the fine things that the mortgage had not taken from me. I still had my
health and my friends. I would start again. I would not grieve about the past. I would
repeat to myself every day the words I had often heard my mother say about spilt milk.
I put into my work the energy that I had been putting into worrying. Little by little, my
situation began to improve. I am almost thankful now that I had to go through all that
misery; it gave me strength, fortitude, and confidence. I know now what it means to hit
bottom. I know it doesn't kill you. I know we can stand more than we think we can. When
little worries and anxieties and uncertainties try to disturb me now, I banish them by
reminding myself of the time I sat on the packing case and said: "I've hit bottom and I've
stood it. There is no place to go now but up."
What's the principle here? Don't try to saw sawdust. Accept the inevitable! If you can't
go lower, yon can try going up.
The Toughest Opponent I Ever Fought Was Worry
By
Jack Dempsey
During my career in the ring, I found that Old Man Worry was an almost tougher
opponent than the heavyweight boxers I fought. I realised that I had to learn to stop
worrying, or worry would sap my vitality and undermine my success. So, little by little, I
worked out a system for myself. Here are some of the things I did:
1. To keep up my courage in the ring, I would give myself a pep talk during the fight. For
example, while I was fighting Firpo, I kept saying over and over: "Nothing is going to
stop me. He is not going to hurt me. I won't feel his blows. I can't get hurt. I am going to
keep going, no matter what happens." Making positive statements like that to myself,
and thinking positive thoughts, helped me a lot. It even kept my mind so occupied that I
didn't feel the blows. During my career, I have had my lips smashed, my eyes cut, my
ribs cracked-and Firpo knocked me clear through the ropes, and I landed on a reporter's
typewriter and wrecked it. But I never felt even one of Firpo's blows. There was only one
blow that I ever really felt. That was the night Lester Johnson broke three of my ribs.
The punch never hurt me; but it affected my breathing. I can honestly say I never felt
any other blow I ever got in the ring.
2. Another thing I did was to keep reminding myself of the futility of worry. Most of my
worrying was done before the big bouts, while I was going through training. I would often
lie awake at nights for hours, tossing and worrying, unable to sleep. I would worry for
fear I might break my hand or sprain my ankle or get my eye cut badly in the first round
so I couldn't co-ordinate my punches. When I got myself into this state of nerves, I used
to get out of bed, look into the mirror, and give myself a good talking to. I would say:
"What a fool you are to be worrying about something than hasn't happened and may
never happen. Life is short. I have only a few years to live, so I must enjoy life." I kept
saying to myself: "Nothing is important but my health. Nothing is important but my
health." I kept reminding myself that losing sleep and worrying would destroy my health.
I found that by saying these things to myself over and over, night after night, year after
year, they finally got under my skin, and I could brush off my worries like so much water.
3. The third-and best-thing I did was pray! While I was training for a bout, I always
prayed several times a day. When I was in the ring, I always prayed just before the bell
sounded for each round. That helped me fight with courage and confidence. I have