فصل 13

Chapter THIRTEEN

How to Turn a Crisis into a Creative Opportunity

I know a young golfer who holds the all-time course record for his home course, yet has never even placed in a really big tournament. When playing by himself, or with friends, or in small tournaments where the stakes are low, his play is flawless. Yet each time he gets into a big tournament his game deteriorates. In the language of golfdom, “the pressure gets him.” Many baseball pitchers have pinpoint control until they find themselves in a situation where “the chips are down.” Then they “choke up,” lose all control, and appear to have no ability whatever.

On the other hand, many athletes perform better under pressure. The situation itself seems to give them more strength, more power, more finesse.

People Who Come into Their Own in a Crisis

For example, John Thomas, the record-breaking high jumper from Boston University, often performed better in competition than in practice. In February 1960, Thomas set a world’s record, clearing 7 feet, 1¼ inches at the U.S. Indoor Championships. His highest previous jump in practice had been 6 feet, 9¼ inches.

It isn’t always the baseball player with the highest batting average who is called upon as a pinch hitter in a tough spot. The manager frequently turns down the man with the highest batting average, for a player who is known to “come through in the clutch.” One salesman may find himself inarticulate in the presence of an important prospect. His skills desert him. Another salesman under the same circumstances may “sell over his head.” The challenge of the situation brings out abilities he does not ordinarily possess.

Many women are charming and gracious when talking with one person or a small informal group, but become tongue-tied, awkward, and dull at a formal dinner or a big social occasion. On the other hand, I know a woman who comes into her own only under the stimulus of a big occasion. If you had dinner with her alone you would find her very ordinary. Her features are not particularly attractive. Her personality is somewhat on the drab side. But all this changes when she attends an important party. The stimulus of the occasion awakens and brings to life something within her. Her eyes acquire a new sparkle. Her conversation is witty and charming. Even her facial features seem to undergo a change and you find yourself thinking of her as a beautiful woman.

There are students who do extremely well in day-to-day class work, but find their minds a blank when taking an examination. There are other students who are ordinary in class work, but do extremely well on important examinations.

The Secret of the Money Player

The difference between all these persons is not some inherent quality that one has and another hasn’t. It is largely a matter of how they learned to react to crisis situations.

A “crisis” is a situation that can either make you or break you. If you react properly to the situation, a “crisis” can give you strength, power, wisdom you do not ordinarily possess. If you react improperly, a crisis can rob you of the skill, control, and ability that you ordinarily have to call upon.

The so-called money player in sports, in business, or in social activities—the person who comes through in the clutch, who performs better under the stimulus of challenge, is invariably the person who has learned either consciously or unconsciously to react well to crisis situations.

In order to perform well in a crisis: (1) We need to learn certain skills under conditions where we will not be over-motivated; we need to practice without pressure. (2) We need to learn to react to crises with an aggressive, rather than a defensive, attitude; to respond to the challenge in the situation, rather than to the menace; to keep our positive goal in mind. (3) We need to learn to evaluate so-called crisis situations in their true perspective; to not make mountains out of molehills, or react as if every small challenge is a matter of life or death.

1. Practice Without Pressure

Although we may learn fast, we do not learn well under crisis conditions. Throw a man who can’t swim into water over his head, and the crisis itself may give him the power to swim to safety. He learns fast, and manages to swim somehow. But he will never learn to become a championship swimmer. The crude, inept stroke that he used to rescue himself becomes “fixed,” and it is difficult for him to learn better ways of swimming. Because of his ineptness he may perish in a real crisis where he is required to swim a long distance.

Dr. Edward C. Tolman, psychologist and founder of the concept known as “latent learning,” said that both animals and men form “brain maps” or “cognitive maps” of the environment while they are learning. If the motivation is not too intense, if there is not too much of a crisis present in the learning situation, these maps are broad and general. If the animal is over-motivated, the cognitive map is narrow and restricted. He learns just one way of solving his problem. In the future, if this one way happens to be blocked, the animal becomes frustrated, and fails to discern alternative routes or detours. He develops a cut-and-dried, preconceived singular response, and tends to lose the ability to react spontaneously to a new situation. He cannot improvise. He can only follow a set plan.

PRESSURE RETARDS LEARNING

Dr. Tolman found that if rats were permitted to learn and practice under non-crisis conditions, they later performed well in a crisis. For example, if rats were permitted to roam about at will and explore a maze when well fed and with plenty to drink, they did not appear to learn anything. Later, however, if the same rats were placed in the maze while hungry, they showed they had learned a great deal, by quickly and efficiently going to the goal. Hunger faced these trained rats with a crisis to which they reacted well.

Other rats, which were forced to learn the maze under the crisis of hunger and thirst, did not do so well. They were over-motivated and their brain maps became narrow. The one “correct” route to the goal became fixated. If this route were blocked, the rats became frustrated and had great difficulty learning a new one.

The more intense the crisis situation under which you learn, the less you learn. Professor Jerome S. Bruner, who made significant contributions to human cognitive psychology and cognitive learning theory in educational psychology, trained two groups of rats to solve a maze to get food. One group, which had not eaten for 12 hours, learned the maze in six trials. A second group, which had eaten nothing for 36 hours, required more than 20 tries.

FIRE DRILLS TEACH CRISIS CONDUCT IN A NON-CRISIS SITUATION

People react in the same way. Persons who have to learn how to get out of an actual burning building will normally require two or three times as long to learn the proper escape route as they would if no fire were present. Some of them do not learn at all. Over-motivation interferes with reasoning processes. The automatic reaction mechanism is jammed by too much conscious effort—trying too hard. Something akin to “purpose tremor” develops and the ability to think clearly is lost. The ones who do manage somehow to get out of the building have then learned a narrow, fixated response. Put them in a different building, or change the circumstances slightly—and they react as badly the second time around as the first.

But you can take these same people and let them practice a “dry run” fire drill when there is no fire. Because there is no menace, there is no excessive negative feedback to interfere with clear thinking or correct doing. They practice filing out of the building calmly, efficiently, and correctly. After they have practiced this exercise a number of times, they can be counted on to act the same way when an actual fire breaks out. Their muscles, nerves, and brain have memorized a broad, general, flexible “map.” The attitude of calmness and clear thinking will “carry over” from practice drill to actual fire. Moreover, they will have learned something about how to get out of any building, or cope with any changed circumstances about the crisis. They are not committed to a rigid response, but will be able to improvise—to react spontaneously to whatever conditions may be present.

The moral is obvious for either mice or men: Practice without pressure and you will learn more efficiently and be able to perform better in a crisis situation.

SHADOWBOXING FOR STABILITY

Gentleman Jim Corbett, the renowned World Heavyweight Champion boxer, made the word “shadowboxing” popular. When asked how he developed the perfect control and timing for his left jab, which he used to cut John L. Sullivan, the Boston Strong-boy, to ribbons, Corbett replied that he had practiced throwing his left at his own image in the mirror more than 10,000 times in preparation for the bout.

Gene Tunney did the same thing. Years before he actually fought Jack Dempsey in the ring, he had fought an imaginary Dempsey more than a hundred times in the privacy of his own room. He secured all the films of old Dempsey fights. He watched them until he knew every one of Dempsey’s moves. Then he shadowboxed. He would imagine that Dempsey was standing before him. When the imaginary Dempsey would make a certain move, he would practice his countermove.

Sir Harry Lauder, the famous Scottish actor and comedian, once admitted that he had practiced a certain routine 10,000 times in private before ever giving the performance publicly. Lauder was, in effect, “shadowboxing” with an imaginary audience.

Billy Graham preached sermons to cypress stumps in a Florida swamp before developing his compelling platform personality with live audiences. Most good public speakers have done the same thing in one way or another. The most common form of shadowboxing for public speakers is to deliver their speech to their own image in the mirror. One man I know lines up six or eight empty chairs, imagines people sitting in them, and practices his speech on the imaginary audience.

EASY PRACTICE BRINGS BETTER SCORES

When Ben Hogan played tournament golf regularly, he kept a golf club in his bedroom, and practiced daily in private, swinging the club correctly and without pressure at an imaginary golf ball. When Hogan was on the links, he would go through the correct motions in his imagination before making a shot, and then depend on “muscle memory” to execute the shot correctly.

Some athletes practice in private with as little pressure as possible. They, or their coaches, refuse to permit the press to witness practice sessions, and even refuse to give out any information concerning their practice for publicity purposes, in order to protect themselves from pressure. Everything is arranged to make training and practice as relaxed and pressure-free as is humanly possible. The result is that they go into the crisis of actual competition without appearing to have any nerves at all. They become “human icicles,” immune to pressure, not worrying about how they will perform, but depending on “muscle memory” to execute the various motions that they have learned.

The technique of “shadowboxing,” or “practice without pressure,” is so simple, and the results often so striking, that some people are inclined to associate it with some sort of magic.

I remember a dowager, for example, who for years had been jittery, felt ill at ease, in social situations. After practicing “shadowboxing” she wrote me: I must have practiced making a “grand entrance” in my own empty living room a hundred times or more. I walked down the room, shaking hands with innumerable imaginary guests. I smiled, and had something friendly to say to each one, actually saying the words out loud. Then I moved about among the “guests,” chatting here and there. I practiced walking, sitting, talking, gracefully and self-confidently.

I cannot tell you how happy I was—and I might say somewhat surprised—at the wonderful time I had at the G__T__ Ball. I felt relaxed and confident. Several situations came up which I had not anticipated, nor practiced—but I found myself “ad-libbing” them admirably. My husband is sure that you worked some sort of mumbo-jumbo on me.

The results you get from sitting in a chair and visualizing are phenomenal. Even so, you would be wise to pay heed to the following Dr. Maltz sentence again: “The technique of ‘shadowboxing,’ or ‘practice without pressure,’ is so simple, and the results often so striking, that some people are inclined to associate it with some sort of magic.” Personally, I don’t think “magic” is too strong a word. I’ve taught the technique of shadowboxing to many people who have never boxed or done any type of combat sport in their lives. I’ve taught it to salespeople, musicians, artists, writers, and people who have a goal to be healthier. All have used it effectively.

SHADOWBOXING TURNS ON SELF-EXPRESSION

The word “express” literally means to push out, to exert, to show forth. The word “inhibit” means to choke off, restrict. Self-expression is a pushing out—a showing forth—of the powers, talents, and abilities of the self. It means turning on your own light and letting it shine. Self-expression is a “yes” response. Inhibition is a “no” response. It chokes off self-expression, turns off or dims your light.

In shadowboxing you practice self-expression with no inhibiting factors present. You learn the correct moves. You form a “mental map” that is retained in memory. You create a broad, general, flexible map. Then, when you face a crisis where an actual menace or inhibiting factor is present, you have learned to act calmly and correctly. There is a “carry-over” in your muscles, nerves, and brain from practice to the actual situation. Moreover, because your learning has been relaxed and pressure-free, you will be able to rise to the occasion, extemporize, improvise, act spontaneously. At the same time, your shadowboxing is building a mental image of yourself—acting correctly and successfully. The memory of this successful self-image also enables you to perform better.

DRY-SHOOTING IS THE SECRET OF GOOD MARKSMANSHIP

A novice on the pistol range will quite often find that he can hold the handgun perfectly still and motionless, as long as he is not trying to shoot. When he aims an empty gun at a target, his hand is steady. When the same gun is loaded and he attempts to make a score—“purpose tremor” sets in. The gun barrel uncontrollably moves up and down, back and forth, in much the same way that your hand tremors when you attempt to thread a needle (see Chapter 11).

Almost to a man, all good pistol coaches recommend lots of “dry run” target shooting, to overcome this condition. The marksman calmly and deliberately aims, cocks, and snaps the handgun at a target on the wall. Calmly and deliberately he pays attention to just how he is holding the gun, whether it is canted or not, whether he is squeezing or jerking the trigger. He learns good habits calmly. There is no purpose tremor because there is no over-carefulness, no over-anxiety for results. After thousands of such “dry runs,” the novice will find that he can hold the loaded gun, and actually shoot it, while maintaining the same mental attitude, and going through the same calm, deliberate physical motions.

A friend of mine learned to shoot quail in much the same manner. Although he was a good shot on the skeet range, the roar of a quail as it took off and his anxiety for results, or over-motivation, caused him to miss almost every time. On his next hunt, and after learning about shadowboxing, he carried an empty shotgun the first day. There was no need to get excited, because he couldn’t shoot anyway. No need for over-motivation when you’re carrying an empty gun! He “shot” some 20 quail that day with the empty gun. By the time he had made his first six shots, all anxiety and jitteriness had left him. His companions thought he had lost a few of his buttons. But he redeemed himself the next day when he killed his first eight birds, and got a total of 15 quail out of 17 shots!

SHADOWBOXING HELPS YOU HIT THE BALL

Not long ago I visited a friend of mine one Sunday in a suburb of New York. His ten-year-old son had visions of becoming a big-league baseball star. His fielding was adequate, but he couldn’t hit. Each time his father threw the ball across the plate, the boy froze up—and missed it by a foot. I decided to try something. “You’re so anxious to hit the ball, and so afraid you won’t, that you can’t even see it clearly,” I said. All that tension and anxiety was interfering with his eyesight and his reflexes—his arm muscles weren’t executing the orders from his brain.

“For the next ten pitches,” I said, “don’t even try to hit the ball. Don’t try at all. Keep your bat on your shoulder. But watch the ball very carefully. Keep your eyes on it from the time it leaves your daddy’s hand until it goes by you. Stand easy and loose, and just watch the ball go by.” After ten trials of this, I advised him, “Now for a while, watch the ball go by and keep the bat on your shoulder, but think to yourself you are going to bring the bat around so it will really hit the ball—solidly and dead-center.” After this, I told him to keep on “feeling the same way” and to keep watching the ball carefully, and to “let” the bat come around and meet the ball, making no attempt to hit it hard. The boy hit the ball. After a few easy hits like this, he was knocking the ball a country mile, and I had a friend for life.

THE SALESMAN WHO PRACTICED “NOT SELLING”

You can use the same technique to “hit the ball” in selling, teaching, or running a business. A young salesman complained to me that he froze up when calling on prospects. His one big trouble was his inability to properly reply to the prospect’s objections. “When a prospect raises an objection or criticizes my product—I can’t think of a thing to say at the time,” he said. “Later, I can think of all kinds of good ways to handle the objection.” I told him about shadowboxing and about the kid who learned to bat by letting the ball go by with the bat on his shoulder. I pointed out that to hit a baseball—or to think on your feet—requires good reflexes. Your automatic Success Mechanism must respond appropriately and automatically. Too much tension, too much motivation, too much anxiety for results, jams the mechanism. “You think of the proper answers later because you’re relaxed and the pressure is off. Right now your trouble is you’re not responding quickly and spontaneously to the objections your prospects throw at you—in other words, you’re not hitting the ball that the prospect throws.” I told him first of all to practice a number of imaginary interviews—actually walking in, introducing himself to a prospect, making his sales pitch—then imagine every possible objection, no matter how screwballish, and answer it out loud. Next, he was to practice “with his bat on his shoulder” on an actual live client. He was to go in with an “empty gun” as far as intents and purposes were concerned. The purpose of the sales interview would not be to sell—he had to resign himself to being satisfied with no order. The purpose of the call would be strictly practice—bat-on-the-shoulder, empty-gun practice.

In his own words, this shadowboxing “worked like a miracle.”

As a young medical student I used to shadowbox surgical operations on cadavers. This no-pressure practice taught me much more than technique. It taught a future surgeon calmness, deliberateness, clear thinking, because he had practiced all these things in a situation that was not do-or-die, life-or-death.

HOW TO MAKE YOUR “NERVES” WORK FOR YOU

The word “crisis” comes from a Greek word that means, literally, “decisiveness,” or “point of decision.” A crisis is a fork in the road. One fork holds a promise of a better condition—the other of a worse condition. In medicine, the “crisis” is a turning point, where the patient either gets worse and dies, or gets better and lives.

Thus every crisis situation is two-pronged. The pitcher who goes in in the ninth inning with the score tied and three men on base can become a hero and gain in prestige, or he can become a villain who loses the game.

Hugh Casey, who was one of the most successful, and the calmest, relief pitchers of all time, was once asked what he thought of when he was sent into a game in the middle of a crisis situation.

“I always think about what I am going to do, and what I want to happen,” he said, “instead of what the batter is going to do, or what may happen to me.” He said he concentrated on what he wanted to happen, felt that he could make it happen, and that it usually did.

This same attitude is another important key to reacting well in any crisis situation. If we can maintain an aggressive attitude, react aggressively instead of negatively to threats and crises, the very situation itself can act as a stimulus to release untapped powers.

Several years ago newspapers carried the story about a “giant” of a man who did what two wrecking trucks and a score of men could not do. He raised the crushed metal cab of a truck up off its pinned driver. He ripped out with his bare hands the brake pedal that had the driver’s foot trapped. And he beat out the flames in the floor of the cab with his bare hands. Later, when this “giant” was found and identified, he turned out to be not a giant at all. Charles Dennis Jones was 6 feet, 2 inches tall and weighed 220. His explanation for his extraordinary feat: “I hate fire.” Fourteen months before, his eight-year-old daughter had burned to death in a fire that had leveled his residence.

I know a tall, rather frail man who single-handedly somehow managed to carry an upright piano out of his house, down three steps, up over a four-inch curb, and out to the center of his lawn, when his house was on fire. It had required six strong men to place the piano in the house. One rather frail man, under the stimulus of excitement and crisis, took it out by himself.

1. Crisis Brings Power

Neurologist J. A. Hadfield has made an extensive study in the extraordinary powers—physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual—that come to the aid of ordinary men and women in times of crisis.

“How wonderful is the way in which, with quite ordinary folk, power leaps to our aid in any time of emergency,” he said. “We lead timid lives, shrinking from difficult tasks till perhaps we are forced into them or ourselves determine on them, and immediately we seem to unlock the unseen forces. When we have to face danger, then courage comes; when trial puts a long continued strain upon us, we find ourselves possessed by the power to endure; or when disaster ultimately brings the fall which we so long dreaded, we feel underneath us the strength as of the everlasting arms. Common experience teaches that, when great demands are made upon us, if only we fearlessly accept the challenge and confidently expend our strength, every danger or difficulty brings its own strength—’As thy days so shall thy strength be.’” The secret lies in the attitude of fearlessly accepting the challenge, and confidently expending our strength.

This means maintaining an aggressive, goal-directed attitude, rather than a defensive, evasive, negative one: No matter what happens, I can handle it, or I can see it through, rather than I hope nothing happens.

KEEP YOUR GOAL IN MIND

The essence of this aggressive attitude is remaining goal-oriented. You keep your own positive goal in mind. You intend to “go through” the crisis experience to achieve your goal. You keep your original positive goal, and do not get sidetracked into secondary ones—the desire to run away, to hide, to avoid the crisis situation. Or, in the language of William James, your attitude is one of fight instead of one of fear or flight.

If you can do this, the crisis situation itself acts as a stimulus that releases additional power to help you accomplish your goal.

Prescott Lecky, author of Self-Consistency: A Theory of Personality, has said that the purpose of emotion is “re-inforcement,” or additional strength, rather than to serve as a sign of weakness. He believed that there was only one basic emotion—“excitement”—and that excitement manifests itself as fear, anger, courage, etc., depending on our own inner goals at the time—whether we are inwardly organized to conquer a problem, run away from it, or destroy it. “The real problem is not to control emotion,” wrote Lecky, “but to control the choice of which tendency shall receive emotional reinforcement.” If your intention, or your attitude-goal, is to go forward, if it is to make the most of the crisis situation, and win out in spite of it, then the excitement of the occasion will reinforce this tendency—it will give you more courage, more strength to go forward. If you lose sight of your original goal, and your attitude-goal becomes one of running away from the crisis, of seeking to somehow get past it by evading it—this running-away tendency will also be reinforced, and you will experience fear and anxiety.

DON’T MISTAKE EXCITEMENT FOR FEAR

Many people have made the mistake of habitually interpreting the feeling of excitement as fear and anxiety, and therefore interpreting it as a proof of inadequacy.

Any normal person who is intelligent enough to understand the situation becomes “excited” or “nervous” just before a crisis situation. Until you direct it toward a goal, this excitement is neither fear, anxiety, courage, confidence, nor anything else other than a stepped-up, reinforced supply of emotional steam in your boiler. It is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of additional strength to be used in any way you choose. Jack Dempsey used to get so nervous before a fight, he couldn’t shave himself. His excitement was such that he couldn’t sit or stand still. He did not, however, interpret this excitement as fear. He did not decide that he should run away because of it. He went forward, and used the excitement to put extra dynamite into his blows.

Experienced actors know that this feeling of excitement just before a performance is a good token. Many of them deliberately “work themselves up” emotionally just before going on stage. The good soldier is usually the man who “feels excited” just before battle.

Many people place their bets at racetracks on the basis of which horse appears to be the most “nervous” just before going to the post. Trainers also know that a horse that becomes nervous or “spirited” just before a race will perform better than usual. The term “spirited” is a good one. The excitement that you feel just before a crisis situation is an infusion of “spirit” and should be so interpreted by you.

Not long ago I met a man on a plane whom I had not seen for several years. In the course of conversation, I asked if he still made as many public speeches as he had in the past. Yes, he said, as a matter of fact he had changed jobs so that he would be able to speak more and now made at least one public speech every day. Knowing his love for public speaking, I commented that it was good he had this type of work. “Yes,” he said, “in one way it is good. But in another way it is not so good. I don’t make as many good speeches now as I used to. I speak so often that it has become old hat to me, and I no longer feel that little tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach, which tells me that I am going to do well.” Some people become so excited during an important written examination that they are unable to think clearly, or even hold a pencil steadily in their hands. Other people become so aroused under the same circumstances that they perform “over their heads”—their minds work better and clearer than usual. Memory is sharpened. It is not the excitement per se that makes the difference, but how it is used.

1. What Is the Worst That Can Possibly Happen?

Many people have a tendency to magnify out of all proportion the potential “penalty” or “failure” that the crisis situation holds. We use our imaginations against ourselves and make mountains out of molehills. Or else we do not use our imaginations at all to “see” what the situation really holds, but habitually and unthinkingly react as if every simple opportunity or threat were a life-or-death matter.

If you face a real crisis you need a lot of excitement. The excitement can be used to good advantage in the crisis situation. However, if you overestimate the danger or the difficulty, if you react to information that is faulty, distorted, or unrealistic, you are likely to call up much more excitement than the occasion calls for. Because the real threat is much less than you have estimated, all this excitement cannot be used appropriately. It cannot be “gotten rid of” through creative action. Therefore it remains inside you, bottled up, as “the jitters.” A big excess of emotional excitement can harm rather than help performance, simply because it is inappropriate.

Philosopher and mathematician Bertrand Russell tells of a technique that he used on himself to good advantage in toning down excessive excitement: “When some misfortune threatens, consider seriously and deliberately what is the very worst that could possibly happen. Having looked this possible misfortune in the face, give yourself sound reasons for thinking that after all it would be no such very terrible disaster. Such reasons always exist, since at the worst nothing that happens to oneself has any cosmic importance. When you have looked for some time steadily at the worst possibility and have said to yourself with real conviction, ‘Well, after all, that would not matter so very much,’ you will find that your worry diminishes to a quite extraordinary extent. It may be necessary to repeat the process a few times, but in the end, if you have shirked nothing in facing the worst possible issue, you will find that your worry disappears altogether and is replaced by a kind of exhilaration.” HOW CARLYLE FOUND COURAGE

Thomas Carlyle has testified how the same method changed his outlook from an “everlasting no” to an “everlasting yea.” He was in a period of deep spiritual despair: “My lodestars were blotted out; in that canopy of grim fire shone no star. . . . The universe was one huge, dead, immeasurable steam engine, rolling on, in its dead indifference, to grind me limb from limb.” Then, in the midst of this spiritual bankruptcy, came a new way of life: And I asked myself, “What art thou afraid of? Wherefore, like a coward, dost thou forever pip and whimper, and go cowering and trembling. Despicable biped! What is the sum-total of the worst that lies before thee? Death? Well, Death: and say the pangs of Tophet too and all that the Devil and Man may, will or can do against thee! Hast thou not a heart; canst thou not suffer whatso it be: and, as a Child of Freedom, though outcast, trample Tophet itself under thy feet, while it consumes thee? Let it come, then: I will meet it and defy it!” And as I so thought, there rushed like a stream of fire over my whole soul; and I shook base Fear away from me forever. I was strong, of unknown strength; a spirit, almost a god. Ever from that time, the temper of my misery was changed: not Fear or whining Sorrow was it, but Indignation and grim fire-eyed Defiance. (Sartor Resartus) Russell and Carlyle are telling us how we can maintain an aggressive, goal-directed, self-determining attitude even in the presence of very real and serious threats and dangers.

MOUNTAIN CLIMBING OVER MOLEHILLS

Most of us, however, allow ourselves to be thrown off course by very minor or even imaginary threats, which we insist on interpreting as life-or-death or do-or-die situations.

Someone has said that the greatest cause of ulcers is mountain climbing over molehills!

A salesman calling on an important prospect may act as if it is a matter of life or death.

A debutante facing her first ball may act as if she is going on trial for her life.

Many people going to be interviewed about a job act as if they are “scared to death,” and so on.

Perhaps this “life-or-death” feeling that many people experience in any sort of crisis situation is a heritage from our dim and distant past, when “failure” to primitive man usually was synonymous with “death.” Regardless of its origin, however, experience of numerous patients has shown that it can be cured by calmly and rationally analyzing the situation. Ask yourself, “What is the worst that can possibly happen if I fail?” rather than responding automatically, blindly and irrationally.

WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO LOSE?

Close scrutiny will show that most of these everyday so-called crisis situations are not life-or-death matters at all, but opportunities to either advance, or stay where you are. For example, what is the worst that can happen to the salesman? He will either get an order, coming out better off than he was, or he will not get the order and be no worse off than before he made the call. The applicant will either get the job, or not get it. If he fails to get it, he will be in the same position as before he asked. About the worst that can happen to the debutante is that she will remain as she was before the ball, relatively unknown, and create no great stir in social circles.

Few people realize just how potent such a simple change of attitude can be. One salesman I know doubled his income after he was able to change his attitude from a scary, panicky, “Everything depends upon this” outlook to the attitude “I have everything to gain and nothing to lose.” Walter Pidgeon, the actor, told how his first public performance was a complete flop. He was “scared to death.” However, between acts, he reasoned with himself that he had already failed; therefore, he had nothing to lose; that if he gave up acting altogether he would be a complete failure as an actor, and therefore he really had nothing to worry about by going back on. He went out in the second act relaxed and confident—and made a big hit.

Remember, above all, that the key to any crisis situation is you. Practice and learn the simple techniques of this chapter, and you, like hundreds of others before you, can learn to make crises work for you by making each crisis a creative opportunity.