VIION MENTAL ATTITUDES

The charge is made against American women, and it is too true, that we lack repose of manner. How can we show that in our manner which we lack in our natures? And how can we possess repose of the soul when we never allow ourselves a minute to catch up with ourselves, to commune with the silent forces of nature, to inhale the strength and calmness and courage that we might exhale again in the fragrance which we call, in the rare instances when we behold it in others, repose of manner? Life for the most of us is an insane scramble to catch up with things—and not half the time do we know or care whether they are things worth catching up with; nor are we satisfied if we succeed for a moment in reaching them. Once in a while the futility of the chase comes over us in a brief gleam of reason, but others around usare hurrying through life after the unattainable, and we forget and scramble on, too, in unconscious emulation of the old Scotch saying, “The de’il take the hindmost.”

If our whole existence is made up of excitement—no matter whether we term it that or disguise it under the name of endless activity, how shall we establish that serenity of soul without which the real nature cannot expand, nor the reality of noble womanhood become the guiding principle of life? Those feverish mentalities who demand front seats at the great pageant of life with a constant change of scenes, do not know true serenity. They are infected with the malaria of inefficiency and crave excitement as an ague patient craves a quieting draft. They miss the delight of relaxation and have no conception of the joys of quiet leisure. Self-communion is unknown to them and they are utter strangers to themselves. They are in a whirl that sucks them ever onward and downward. Serenity is an unknown word to them and they know it not, either at home or abroad; while to be alone with their own thoughts is a discomfort they cannot endure.

Emerson says our real life is in the silent moments,and many of us have realized this during the vacation season, when we have stumbled upon serenity in country byways, by the seashore or in the solitude of city homes, when “everybody” has gone away. Stevenson declares that gentleness and cheerfulness are the greatest virtues, and above all other morality. There are thousands of women who do not know how to rest, who cannot enjoy the silent moments. Blessed be she who knows that the inner life does not receive its highest pleasure from the doing of things; who finds definite joy in accessions of serenity, whether these come in the silent hours when the grate fire is dying, or during the mid-day rest or in the pauses in conversation.

What should we do if we were suddenly isolated? Be oppressed with intolerable loneliness at first, no doubt; and then we should begin to think. I sometimes think it would be a blessed thing if every woman were obliged to go into retreat occasionally, as the good Catholics do. The silence of a quiet room where she could be undisturbed and could spend a few days in thinking out the problems of life, even if she were not spiritually inclined enough to seek a higher communion, would be of inestimable benefit tothe average woman. There is such a thing as too much of attrition with other human beings. A stone that rolls ever about restlessly in the rushing waters of a strong current becomes polished off to look and feel like every other stone in its neighborhood. So we lose our individuality and come to have no atmosphere of our own.

There are women who can never endure their own company for the space of half an hour. Their one desire is to avoid themselves—to hide from themselves in the company of others. Of such we are not talking, although they are not utterly hopeless; since it would not be impossible that loneliness or isolation from their kind should develop the habit of thinking, even in them. But to the woman who wants to be individual, who wants to be an inspiration and a help to others—if she only had time—I would urge the appropriation of just a little bit of time every day or every night for getting acquainted with her real self, for the cultivation of her power of thought.

In this way we may minister to the inner needs of the soul, develop love and patience and the helpful instinct which makes of women what God meant them to be: His messengers tohumankind. Just as the observance of the Sabbath is a wise thing from a physiological point of view, so is self-communion and its breathing-spaces a blessing to the intellectual world.

Not that we should cease our activities utterly, or take time for morbid contemplation of our own peculiarities or tendencies. There is a great deal of work to be done, and work that seems to be meant for our own hands and no other. Only we must learn to discriminate between actual service and aimless work that accomplishes nothing, even for ourselves. And service should enrich the giver before all others, should it not?

Again, serenity is not idleness. The most effective workers are those who are never flurried and hurried, who do not lose their balance in the turmoil of every-day living, nor rush about in fussy excitement. We must be sure to do something—much, for others, and we shall find our days crowded full as they grow shorter by the almanac; but it is our own fault if we get flustered and worried, if we allow our activities to destroy our serenity of soul or hamper the inner life.

This atmosphere of poise in which the nicelyadjusted balance of our powers may be maintained is a habit—a mode of life. It is often a matter of temperament, but it may be acquired and nobody needs it more than she who is born without it. Some are blessed by the fairy godmother with happier dispositions than others. Still there is no despair for any of us; if we have not the temperament which makes for happiness, it is our first business to acquire it. Why go through this world perpetually disgruntled when the world will concede so much to a smile?

Let us then develop this sort of spiritual capital as the main necessity of life. Let us not toil unprofitably nor become engulfed in activity for its own sake. Let us measure out for ourselves only just so much of play as we can do well without losing our balance or frittering ourselves away uselessly. It will take more self-denial for some of us than to go the other way. It is always easier drifting with the tide than resisting it—even though it be towards the whirlpool.

A woman with no atmosphere is one of the most uninteresting objects in the world. A woman should be an individual; more than that, she should possess a distinct individuality. She should suggest to those with whom she comesmost in contact something bright and beautiful or soft and restful. How can she, if she be uneasy, restless and strenuous? Certain women come into a room or a house like an inspiration; they suggest an exhilarating breath of June air, or the great calmness of a starry night. Such women are worthy to be called God’s beneficences. They are like the beautiful rose tree, scenting the atmosphere with fragrance and making all the world aware of June and summer and all bright things. And unless we do sometimes “chant in thoughts and paint in words,” even though it be in our secret soul of souls, we can never hope to be numbered with such. We forget that a wise prophet once said there is a time to think, as well as a time to work and a time to sing and a time to dance. And we need to stop and think more than we need to do any of these other things.

Ruskin’s words should be emblazoned on a card and hung before the eyes of every restless woman. “And to get peace, if you do want it, make for yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts. Those are nests on the sea, indeed, but safe beyond all others. Do you know what fairy palaces you may build of beautiful thoughts,proof against all adversity? Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings, treasure houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us; houses built without hands for our souls to live in.” Why not take this for our rule, and devote some little time every day, say a half hour at dusk or even at night after the house is still, to building ourselves nests of pleasant thoughts? Surely it would pay.

It rests with the individual woman whether she will be like a rose tree full of brightness and fragrance, a help and an inspiration; or whether she will waste herself in a mad endeavor to keep up with the pell-mell, hop, skip and jump of modern life. Shall we stop occasionally long enough to plant the seed germs that will blossom later into flower and fruit? Or shall we degenerate into mere replicas of other women who wear good clothes, do and say the conventional, commonplace thing, and are as uninteresting as a sunset without a flush of color?

No; let us give ourselves pause. Let us take stock of ourselves and see if we are making themost of our talents, “building for ourselves fairy palaces, proof against all adversity.” And let us not do it for ourselves alone, but that we may give others that “which care may not disturb nor pain take away.”

And let me whisper a way to keep in the attitude of serenity. Commit to memory some helpful verse and say it over to yourselves whenever you have time, or, more important even, whenever you get cross. If you cannot pin it to your memory, pin it to your mirror, or on your pin-cushion, if you are so old-fashioned as to use one.

I will tell you a secret. On my mirror is hung a ribbon banner with the following printed thereon:

MY SYMPHONYTo live content with small means;To seek elegance rather than luxury,And refinement rather than fashion;To be worthy, not respectable;And wealthy, not rich;To study hard, think quietly,Talk gently, act frankly;To listen to stars and birds,To babes and sagesWith open heart.To bear all cheerfully,Do all bravely, await occasions,Hurry never;In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,Grow up through the common.This is to be my symphony.—William Ellery Channing.

MY SYMPHONY

To live content with small means;To seek elegance rather than luxury,And refinement rather than fashion;To be worthy, not respectable;And wealthy, not rich;To study hard, think quietly,Talk gently, act frankly;To listen to stars and birds,To babes and sagesWith open heart.To bear all cheerfully,Do all bravely, await occasions,Hurry never;In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,Grow up through the common.This is to be my symphony.

To live content with small means;

To seek elegance rather than luxury,

And refinement rather than fashion;

To be worthy, not respectable;

And wealthy, not rich;

To study hard, think quietly,

Talk gently, act frankly;

To listen to stars and birds,

To babes and sages

With open heart.

To bear all cheerfully,

Do all bravely, await occasions,

Hurry never;

In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,

Grow up through the common.

This is to be my symphony.

—William Ellery Channing.

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