NUGGETS OF THE NEW THOUGHT/PART 10

 

THE HUMAN WET BLANKET.

    Sees no good in anything—Expects the bad and gets it—Attracts it to him—Depresses everything and everyone—Carries an aura of negative depressing thought—Clammy—Puts out the fire of energy—Take warning.

 

Did you ever meet the Human Wet Blanket?

To start with, he sees no good in anything. To him every man is a rogue—every woman a schemer trying to pull the wool over the eyes of some man. He looks for the Bad—expects to find it—and find it he does. One generally gets what he looks for. He attracts to him that for which he looks, and he cannot see any other qualities than those possessed by himself. Everyone is trying to cheat him, and out-wit him, so he thinks, and I have no doubt that the Law brings him a fair share of people of this kind. In order to prevent other people from taking advantage of him, he endeavors to take advantage of them in the same small way that he fears they will use on him. The consequence is the people with whom he has dealings are apt to give him a dose of his own medicine. He trusts no man. He's so shrewd that he measures off a spool of thread in order to be sure that the storekeeper has not robbed him of a yard or two. And the funny thing is, that he sets in motion the Law which causes the one short-measure spool in the case to fall into his hands. He just draws these things to him. He thinks himself a marvel of cunning, and endeavors to manifest it in petty practices, the result being that he attracts to himself all the little schemers, and some of the big ones, who happen to be within the radius of his attracting power, while the other type of people are repelled by his mental attitude and thought-force. Funny, isn't it?

Then he sees nothing but disaster ahead in any plan, and, sure, enough, if he gets near enough to the plan to contaminate it, trouble is sure to happen. As an attractor of Negative Thought he is a glittering success. He seems to have a positive genius for doing things the wrong way. And yet, he doesn't believe in the Attractive Power of Thought or "any such nonsense." He's too shrewd to take any stock in such ridiculous theories, although he exhibits in his life a most convincing proof of the truth of New Thought teachings.

He never says "I Can and I Will," and if he hears anyone around him indulging in such heretical notions, he promptly proceeds to squelch him by a few "Supposings," "Buts," "What ifs," and two or three gloomy shakes of the head, and a few sighs. His motto seems to be "There's no use trying, you can't do it." With him the country seems always to be going to the dogs, and the poorhouse is constantly looming up before him.

I need scarcely add that Fear, Worry, Jealousy, and Suspicion are his bosom friends. He holds these thoughts constantly, and they and the rest of the negative brood are devouring him. They are making their home in his mentality and are increasing rapidly, besides frequently inviting their friends for a visit.

Of course, it's nobody's business if he likes this sort of thing, but it is not pleasant to come in contact with him. He is surrounded with an aura of negative, depressing, gloomy, thought-force, which is manifest to all with whom he comes in contact. Turn him loose in a roomful of cheerful people, and in a few minutes the conversation has lagged, the warmth of love and friendship has disappeared and things begin to feel damp and chilly, and someone will begin to make inquiry regarding the furnace or the steam radiators, and wondering why the janitor does not keep up the fire on such a day. Approach him when you feel fired with energy, ambition and push—when you feel that you can go out and conquer any obstacle—and you will feel the clammy wet blanket thrown over you, putting out your fire of energy, and in a moment or two you will wonder "What's the use." That is, unless you understand your business, and know how to throw off the influence of the negative thought-waves emanating from this man. Look out for him.

From the bottom of my heart, I pity this man and his kind. He gets none of the sweet things of Life—he doesn't see them lying around. He misses the joy of living. He sees everything through jaundiced eyes. He knows nothing of the happiness of the clear head, warm heart, and brotherly hand. He is so occupied in looking for the spoiled fruit on the ground that he does not see the perfect fruit on the branches above his head, begging to be picked. He is so much engrossed in the mud upon the road, that he does not see the bright blue sky above his head; the beautiful landscape; the children playing on the grass; the mother nursing her babe; the old couple trudging along hand in hand. These things do not exist for him. His mind is so full of Fear, Suspicion, Distrust, and Petty Spite, that Love finds no room. But even this is Good—for many find their way to Optimism only by first sinking to the depths of extreme Pessimism. They reach the Celestial City by the road that winds through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Even these things shall pass away.

All's well.