The Power of Positive Living

Norman Vincent Peale

• Verlag: Open Road Media
• Jahr: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781504023290
• Thema: Persönliche Entwicklung
• Thema: Persönlicher Erfolg

The #1 New York Times –bestselling author of The Power of Positive Thinking shows readers how to put his philosophy of optimism into action. Millions of people around the world have changed their lives for the better, thanks to Norman Vincent Peale and his Positive Thinking philosophy. Dr. Peale's groundbreaking program of affirmation and positive visualization is an amazingly effective way to overcome any obstacles that may stand between you and success, happiness, and your mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health and well-being. Positive Thinking works—and in The Power of Positive Living, Dr. Peale demonstrates how to use these techniques to conquer the fears and crippling adversity that may be holding you back from realizing your true potential in life. Self-confidence is the key and this book shows us how we can do it! With the "get-it-done twins, " patience and perseverance, any believer can be an achiever! Dr. Peale provides inspiring success stories from his own extensive experience as a counselor—such as a department store executive who turned his store into one of the chain's most profitable by focusing on his past successes rather than his failures, and a woman who recovered her self-confidence and joy and purpose in living when she started volunteering with cancer survivors after her own breast cancer diagnosis cut short her modeling career. The wisdom, guidance, and practical advice provided in The Power of Positive Living will give you faith in yourself and in your power to achieve absolutely anything!

CHAPTER 1

POSITIVE THINKING STILL WORKS!

One unforgettable day I made a monumental discovery. It was a discovery that can help anyone, which is why I am telling about it here. The day started out just like any other. At 9 A.M. I had a class in what was called Economics II, with Professor Ben Arneson. I shuffled into the classroom as usual and found a seat in the back row, fervently hoping I would not be noticed.

You see, I was extremely shy. If you ever were as shy and shrinking as I was, you’ll understand my misery and unhappiness. With a low self-image and an equally low self-esteem, I had little self-confidence. “I can’t” was my characteristic way of reacting to any challenge. I went crawling through life figuratively on my hands and knees until this day when I discovered something so momentous that it revolutionized my life.

To my deep distress, the professor called on me to explain a point in the day’s lesson. I was always a hard worker, had studied diligently, and happened to be up on the subject matter. But I was also terrified of speaking in public. With shaking knees I stood to speak, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, finally slumping down, aware that I had not only handled the subject matter awkwardly but had made a spectacle of myself.

As the class came to a close, the professor made a few announcements, concluding with, “Peale, please remain after class. I want to talk with you.” Shaking in my shoes I waited until all the students had left, then quavered, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Yes. Come up front and sit across from my desk,” said Dr. Arneson. He sat bouncing a round eraser up and down, looking at me with what I felt was a piercing gaze. The silence deepened.

“What in the world is the matter with you, Peale?” he asked. Then he continued, “You are doing good work in this class. You’ll probably get an A. But when I ask you to speak, you appear horribly embarrassed, mumble sort of incoherently, and then slump red-faced into your seat. What is the matter with you, son?”

“I don’t know, Professor,” I mumbled miserably; “guess I’ve got an inferiority complex.”

“Do you want to get over it and act like a man?”

I nodded. “I’d give anything to get over being the way I am. But I don’t know how.”

The professor’s face softened. “You can get over it, Norman, by doing what I did to get over my inferiority feelings.”

“You?” I exclaimed. “You were the same way I am?”

“That’s why I noticed the same symptoms in you,” the professor said.

“But how did you get over being that way?” I asked.

His answer was quietly given, but I caught the positive undertones. “I just asked God to help me; I believed that He would; and … He did.”

The room was silent for a moment as the professor regarded me. “Get going, Peale,” he said, “and, never forget, be a believer in God and yourself.” So saying he waved me off and began gathering up his papers.

I walked along the hall and continued down the broad flight of steps on the outside of the college building. On the fourth step from the bottom I stopped. That same step is still there, as far as I know. On it I said a prayer. Even some seventy years later I remember it distinctly: “Lord, You can take a drunk and make him sober; You can change a thief into an honest person. Can’t You also take a poor mixed-up guy like me and make me normal? Please help me! Amen.”

As I stood on that step I experienced a strange feeling of peace. I expected a miracle to happen then and there, and a miracle did take place. But, as so often happens with a major change, it came about over a period of time.

A few days later another professor, one who supervised my major, called me into his office and handed me a book, The Sayings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. “Read Emerson,” he said, “and you will learn the great things that can come about by right thinking.” Later, another professor gave me the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, who did indeed teach that life becomes what we think. I’ll always thank those kindly college teachers for trying to make something of a young man who was headed for less than his best.

Oh, I was always a hard worker, and such a person achieves something due to his work habits. But I was a failure in my thoughts. And one’s thoughts determine one’s life, so that even diligent work cannot compensate for failure in the thinking process.

But through the help of such professors I was fortunate to take advantage of a system of ideas that in time helped me to master my feelings of inferiority and inadequacy. The sense of release which these ideas produced was so joyful and so wonderful that I had to tell others similarly afflicted that they, too, could be set free from their misery. The basic principle of these ideas was the almost incredible power of positive thinking.

I found by the application of these principles that even I, an ordinary and average person, could do much better in life than I had been doing. The release of personal potential was so amazing that I wanted all the other so-called ordinary people to know that they could become extra-ordinary.

But beyond positive thinking I have found there is a vital principle without which the former is of little avail. It is positive believing. Thinking is the body of the rocket. Believing is the propellant which carries it to the stars. Thinking is the birth of the deed. Believing makes it happen.

For example, I read a recent Harvard Business Review report in which a district manager of the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company noted that insurance agents performed better in the challenging environment of outstanding agencies as opposed to lesser agencies. To prove his point, he set up his six top agents to work with his best assistant manager. He reported the following results:

“Shortly after this selection had been made, the people in the agency began referring to this select group as a ‘superstaff’ because of their high esprit de corps in operating so well as a unit. Their production efforts over the first twelve weeks far surpassed our most optimistic expectations …”

Why? It’s easy to see. Salespeople knowing they are regarded as “superstaff” believe they are tops and fight to live up to that image. In a way, it’s somewhat similar to the “self-fulfilling prophecy” theory, in which people—all people, children and grown-ups—tend to become what’s expected of them.

And look what happened to a group of agents in the same office considered “average.” Normally, they might have continued on producing an average number of sales. But a remarkable, dynamic assistant manager over this group believed that she and her agents were just as capable as the superstaff manager and his salespeople. In fact, she convinced her agents they could outsell the superstaff. Rising to the challenge, these “average” agents, believing they could do it, increased their sales by a greater percentage than the superstaff did. She made them fulfill her prophecy—by believing in them.

That’s what believing does.

Choose what you believe. Remember, those supposedly average agents would never have increased their sales if they continued believing they were average.

Examples like this make me realize how human thinking is such a strange and complicated mixture. Some people are steady and reliable from childhood to old age. Rarely are they in conflict with themselves.

They get good grades in school, later perform well in their work, and do well, some very well indeed. Others are less organized, dissipate their abilities to where we sadly speak of them: “Too bad, he once had a lot on the ball.”

Others, seeming highly organized mentally and emotionally, become disorganized and blow one opportunity after another, despite their native ability. Others, extraordinarily favored with admirable personality traits, do not seem to have a strong purpose or the capacity to make sound decisions. Ultimately they suffer a personality breakdown. You have heard of Wall Street figures going to jail, of dignitaries being denied top-level appointments due to their lack of ethical standards. The years are strewn with such wrecks, many of whom with proper self-control could have become leaders or top executives.

Why does one person succeed and another fail? Why does one individual favorably surprise and another disappoint? I think I have an answer.

As an example, let me tell you about a man I knew some years ago. I was reminded of him one night recently when I was in Columbus, Ohio, for a speaking engagement. My room on the hotel’s twenty-eighth floor offered a fairly complete panorama of the city. I noticed a group of ancient stone buildings which, as a former resident of Columbus, I recognized as the old Ohio State Penitentiary.

I think often of the boys and girls of my youth in the Ohio cities and towns where I lived—Cincinnati, Columbus, Bellefontaine, Delaware—and am happy to say that practically all of them turned out well, a few superlatively well. But as I looked down at the Ohio Penitentiary, I remembered one who didn’t. Gifted with a charming personality and a brain good enough to graduate from his college cum laude, he was the last person we expected to end up in jail. He had grown up in a pleasant small village, became a top officer of the local bank and a highly respected citizen. He was so engaging that people talked of him for Congress. Word had it that he would be a “shoo-in.”

Then he married a beautiful, wealthy girl from Chicago. The attractive couple became leaders of the local social set. He idolized his wife and gave her everything she wanted. Apparently she thought her husband had greater financial resources than he actually possessed. And as they began to indulge in expensive trips and cruises, his generous salary was strained.

One night when he was working alone in the bank, a thought crossed his mind: He could “borrow” some cash. The bank examiner wasn’t due for another month. It was a “bull” stock market just then, with buys that were bound to go up. He could make a killing, pressed the thought. Then he could restore the “borrowed” cash and have more money to use. But, being an honorable man, he rejected the thought.

In the words of Thomas Carlyle, the famed English writer, “The thought is ancestor to the deed.” What a powerful truth! On another night, alone in the bank, the same thought returned. This time the mental resistance was weaker and the hand crept forward and did the deed that the thought had suggested.

The market turned sour and the bank examiner came early for his examination. The “borrowing” was discovered and the great iron gates of the Ohio State Penitentiary clanged shut on a good man who thought wrong.

Years later the banker’s daughter made an appointment to see me in my New York office. “I’ve always suffered because of my father,” she said. “I admired and loved him. So what I want to know is, was my father a weak man? A bad man? You knew him. Tell me, please.”

“No, he wasn’t a bad man,” I replied. “Nor do I think his problem was weakness. He was an intelligent man. But he had a problem with his thinking.”

I was able to console the daughter and am happy to say that after paying his debt to society, the man and his family were reunited.

What I meant by a “problem with his thinking” was he was thinking negatively. He automatically thought of his wife as a soft, perfumed, beautiful fool. If he had thought positively about her, he would have seen her for what she actually was, an intelligent, strong woman. Her actions after his incarceration proved this. Thus he would have leveled with her about the true condition of their finances, and I’m sure the two of them would have worked it out. For they really loved each other. And nothing is impossible when two people are in love.

But that is the trouble with anyone who takes the wrong way. It may seem the easiest, most expedient way. But as Jesus Christ taught us: “… the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction …” (Matthew 7:13). Wrongdoers are often clever and sometimes they get away with their crookedness for a time. But basically they are stupid, for in the end they are caught up, as witness those recent Wall Street figures who were once considered among the shrewdest men on “the Street.”

Carlyle was so right: “The thought is ancestor to the deed.” That initial thought, if given residence in the mind, is the spark that ignites the action. And success or failure depends on whether that thought is positive or negative.

What follows that thought is just as important. And that is the “deliberating process,” how we handle the problem or opportunity.

On my office desk is a replica of Rodin’s great statue The Thinker. Whenever a problem comes up, I try to remind myself, “Now be a thinker. Think this through in a cool intellectual process. And Norman,” I tell myself, “for heaven’s sake, don’t decide this matter emotionally.”

Yes, that little statue has saved me from many a stupid action. Oh, sure, I have my unfortunate moments. Anyone who doesn’t admit...