"I now have the following words pasted on my bathroom mirror, and I read them every
morning as I shave:
I had the blues because I had no shoes,
Until upon the street, I met a man who had no feet."
I once asked Eddie Rickenbacker what was the biggest lesson he had learned from
drifting about with his companions in life rafts for twenty-one days, hopelessly lost in the
Pacific. "The biggest lesson I learned from that experience," he said, "was that if you
have all the fresh water you want to drink and all the food you want to eat, you ought
never to complain about anything."
Time ran an article about a sergeant who had been wounded on Guadalcanal. Hit in the
throat by a shell fragment, this sergeant had had seven blood transfusions. Writing a
note to his doctor, he asked: "Will I live?" The doctor replied: "Yes." He wrote another
note, asking: "Will I be able to talk?" Again the answer was yes. He then wrote another
note, saying: "Then what in hell am I worrying about?"
Why don't you stop right now and ask yourself: "What in the hell am I worrying about?"
You will probably find that it is comparatively unimportant and insignificant.
About ninety per cent of the things in our lives are right and about ten per cent are
wrong. If we want to be happy, all we have to do is to concentrate on the ninety per cent
that are right and ignore the ten per cent that are wrong. If we want to be worried and
bitter and have stomach ulcers, all we have to do is to concentrate on the ten per cent
that are wrong and ignore the ninety per cent that are glorious.
The words "Think and Thank" are inscribed in many of the Cromwellian churches of
England. These words ought to be inscribed in our hearts, too: "Think and Thank". Think
of all we have to be grateful for, and thank God for all our boons and bounties.
Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels, was the most devastating pessimist in
English literature. He was so sorry that he had been born that he wore black and fasted
on his birthdays; yet, in his despair, this supreme pessimist of English literature praised
the great health-giving powers of cheerfulness and happiness. "The best doctors in the
world," he declared, "are Doctor Diet, Doctor Quiet, and Doctor Merryman."
You and I may have the services of "Doctor Merryman" free every hour of the day by
keeping our attention fixed on all the incredible riches we possess-riches exceeding by
far the fabled treasures of Ali Baba. Would you sell both your eyes for a billion dollars?
What would you take for your two legs? Your hands? Your hearing? Your children? Your
family? Add up your assets, and you will find that you won't sell what you have for all the
gold ever amassed by the Rockefellers, the Fords and the Morgans combined.
But do we appreciate all this? Ah, no. As Schopenhauer said: "We seldom think of what
we have but always of what we lack." Yes, the tendency to "seldom think of what we
have but always of what we lack" is the greatest tragedy on earth. It has probably
caused more misery than all the wars and diseases in history.
It caused John Palmer to turn "from a regular guy into an old grouch", and almost
wrecked his home. I know because he told me so.
Mr. Palmer lives at 30 19th Avenue, Paterson, New Jersey. "Shortly after I returned from
the Army," he said, "I started in business for myself. I worked hard day and night. Things
were going nicely. Then trouble started. I couldn't get parts and materials. I was afraid I