Hey guys,

Thank you so much to everyone who wrote to me last week. I loved reading all of your very varied responses!! So thank you for sharing.
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(I did say that I would tell you this week why I wanted to know about the people who you admired so if you're interested... (& also in case you missed it), pls see below.)

But first:

On my binge of finishing off books that I started (sometimes years ago), I recently finished Dale Carnegie's 'How to Stop Worrying and Start Living' (1948).

Clearly I bought it when I was much more of a worrier. Now that I feel quite free from worry I do slightly cringe at the title and think why would you read a book about not worrying? Why wouldn't you just stop worrying? But then I remembered OBVIOUSLY it's not that simple. & anyone who is experiencing a lot of worry (including Delia from a couple of years ago) would not likely appreciate that comment.

Anyway, despite being way more chill these days I decided to finish it. Quite cool learning about the things people were worrying about ~80 years ago anyway... so even if you've worked out how to live perfectly fine without the assistance of a book, you too might find the below interesting.

Two anecdotes stayed in my mind post reading. Both stories are from the reader's report type section at the end of the book... (it may slightly seem like I'm trying to convert you to Christianity. Not the point. Also the next story takes a lesson from Islam so take your pick! (or not... just SO interesting how faith / spirituality / god etc is such a recurring theme in all these self help books...))
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​I Now Look for the Green Light ​
BY JOSEPH M. COTTER
1534 Fargo Avenue, Chicago, Illinois

FROM the time I was a small boy, throughout the early stages of young manhood, and during my adult life, I was a professional worrier. My worries were many and varied. Some were real; most of them were imaginary. Upon rare occasions I would find myself without anything to worry about then I would worry for fear I might be overlooking something.

Then, two years ago, I started out on a new way of living...

...like a shot from out of the dark, I found the answer - and where do you suppose I found it? On a North-western Railroad platform at seven P.M. on May 31, 1945. It was an important hour for me. That is why I remember it so clearly.

We were taking some friends to the train. They were leaving on The City of Los Angeles, a streamliner, to return from a vacation. War was still on crowds were heavy that year. Instead of boarding the train with my wife, I wandered down the tracks towards the front of the train. I stood looking at the big shiny engine for a minute. Presently I looked down the track and saw a huge semaphore. An amber light was showing. Immediately this light turned to a bright green. At that moment, the engineer started clanging a bell; I heard the familiar "All aboard!" and, in a matter of seconds, that huge streamliner began to move out of the station on its 2,300-mile trip.

My mind started spinning. Something was trying to make sense to me. I was experiencing a miracle. Suddenly it dawned on me. That engineer had given me the answer I had been seeking. He was starting out on that long journey with only one green light to go by. If I had been in his place, I would want to see all the green lights for the entire journey. Impossible, of course, yet that was exactly what I was trying to do with my life sitting in the station, going noplace, because I was trying too hard to see what was ahead for me.

My thoughts kept coming. That engineer didn't worry about trouble that he might encounter miles ahead. There probably would be some delays, some slowdowns, but wasn't that why they had signal systems? Amber lights reduce speed and take it easy. Red lights - real danger up ahead - stop. That was what made train travel safe. A good signal system.

I asked myself why I didn't have a good signal system for my life. My answer was I did have one. God had given it to me. He controls it, so it has to be foolproof. I started looking for a green light. Where could I find it? Well, if God created the green lights, why not ask Him? I did just that.

And now by praying each morning, I get my green light for that day. I also occasionally get amber lights that slow me down. Sometimes I get red lights that stop me before I crack up. No more worrying for me since that day two years ago when I made this discovery. During those two years, over seven hundred green lights have shown for me, and the trip through life is so much easier without the worry of what colour the next light will be. No matter what colour it may be, I will know what to do.

The next one is long but so good! Enjoy (occasional added commentary by me.)

"HOW I CONQUERED WORRY"​
I Lived in the Garden of Allah
BY R. V. C. BODLEY
Descendant of Sir Thomas Bodley, founder of the Bodleian Library, Oxford Author of Wind in the Sahara, The Messenger, and fourteen other volumes
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​IN 1918, I turned my back on the world I had known and went to north-west Africa and lived with the Arabs in the Sahara, the Garden of Allah. I lived there seven years. I learned to speak the language of the nomads. I wore their clothes, I ate their food, and adopted their mode of life, which has changed very little during the last twenty centuries. I became an owner of sheep and slept on the ground in the Arabs' tents. I also made a detailed study of their religion. In fact, I later wrote a book about Mohammed, entitled The Messenger.

Those seven years which I spent with these wandering shepherds were the most peaceful and contented years of my life.

I had already had a rich and varied experience: I was born of English parents in Paris; and lived in France for nine years. Later I was educated at Eton and at the Royal Military College at Sandhurst. Then I spent six years as a British army officer in India, where I played polo, and hunted, and explored in the Himalayas as well as doing some soldiering. I fought through the First World War and, at its close, I was sent to the Paris Conference as an assistant military attaché. I was shocked and disappointed at what I saw there. During the four years of slaughter on the Western Front, I had believed we were fighting to save civilisation. But at the Paris Peace Conference, I saw selfish politicians laying the groundwork for the Second World War each country grabbing all it could for itself, creating national antagonisms, and reviving the intrigues of secret diplomacy. (Interesting!!)

I was sick of war, sick of the army, sick of society. For the first time in my career, I spent sleepless nights, worrying about what I should do with my life. Lloyd George (PM at the time - cool!) urged me to go in for politics. I was considering taking his advice when a strange thing happened, a strange thing that shaped and determined my life for the next seven years. It all came from a conversation that lasted less than two hundred seconds a conversation with "Ted" Lawrence, "Lawrence of Arabia", the most colourful and romantic figure produced by the First World War. He had lived in the desert with the Arabs and he advised me to do the same thing. At first, it sounded fantastic (love how the meaning of this word has changed).

However, I was determined to leave the army, and I had to do something. Civilian employers did not want to hire men like me ex-officers of the regular army especially when the labour market was jammed with millions of unemployed. So I did as Lawrence suggested: I went to live with the Arabs. I am glad I did so. They taught me how to conquer worry. Like all faithful Moslems, they are fatalists. They believe that every word Mohammed wrote in the Koran is the divine revelation of Allah. So when the Koran says: "God created you and all your actions," they accept it literally. That is why they take life so calmly and never hurry or get into unnecessary tempers when things go wrong. They know that what is ordained is ordained; and no one but God can alter anything. However, that doesn't mean that in the face of disaster, they sit down and do nothing. To illustrate, let me tell you of a fierce, burning windstorm of the sirocco which I experienced when I was living in the Sahara. It howled and screamed for three days and nights. It was so strong, so fierce, that it blew sand from the Sahara hundreds of miles across the Mediterranean and sprinkled it over the Rhone Valley in France (this happened when I was skiing in Austria once. So weird. Sand from the Sahara blew all the way over and landed across the snow, leaving sandy streaks everywhere to ski on.) The wind was so hot I felt as if the hair was being scorched off my head. My throat was parched. My eyes burned. My teeth were full of grit. I felt as if I were standing in front of a furnace in a glass factory. I was driven as near crazy as a man can be and retain his sanity. But the Arabs didn't complain. They shrugged their shoulders and said, "Mektoub!" "It is written."
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But immediately after the storm was over, they sprang into action: they slaughtered all the lambs because they knew they would die anyway; and by slaughtering them at once, they hoped to save the mother sheep. After the lambs were slaughtered, the flocks were driven southward to water. This was all done calmly, without worry or complaining or mourning over their losses. The tribal chief said: "It is not too bad. We might have lost everything. But praise God, we have forty per cent of our sheep left to make a new start."

I remember another occasion, when we were motoring across the desert and a tyre blew out. The chauffeur had forgotten to mend the spare tyre. So there we were with only three tyres. I fussed and fumed and got excited (another word evolution) and asked the Arabs what we were going to do. They reminded me that getting excited wouldn't help, that it only made one hotter. The blown-out tyre, they said, was the will of Allah and nothing could be done about it. So we started on, crawling along on the rim of a wheel. Presently the car spluttered and stopped. We were out of petrol! The chief merely remarked: "Mektoub!" And, there again, instead of shouting at the driver because he had not taken on enough petrol, everyone remained calm and we walked to our destination, singing as we went. (This is a bit extreme but okay.)

The seven years I spent with the Arabs convinced me that the neurotics, the insane, the drunks of America and Europe are the product of the hurried and harassed lives we live in our so-called civilisation (shots fired).

As long as I lived in the Sahara, I had no worries. I found there, in the Garden of Allah, the serene contentment and physical well-being that so many of us are seeking with tenseness and despair.

Many people scoff at fatalism. Maybe they are right. Who knows? But all of us must be able to see how our fates are often determined for us. For example, if I had not spoken to Lawrence of Arabia at three minutes past noon on a hot August day in 1919, all the years that have elapsed since then would have been completely different. Looking back over my life, I can see how it has been shaped and moulded time and again by events far beyond my control. The Arabs call it mektoub, kismet - the will of Allah. Call it anything you wish. It does strange things to you. I only know that today - seventeen years after leaving the Sahara - I still maintain that happy resignation to the inevitable which I learned from the Arabs. That philosophy has done more to settle my nerves than a thousand sedatives could have achieved.

Dale Carnegie: You and I are not Mohammedans: we don't want to be fatalists. But when the fierce, burning winds blow over our lives and we cannot prevent them - let us, too, accept the inevitable. And then get busy and pick up the pieces. (not very inclusive there Dale! We could be fatalists)

This week on Growing Up with Delia Burgess​
Ep. 95 - Nolan Gore: Marine Corps, God, Texas & landscaping​
​Nolan Gore is the General Manager and owner of Top Choice Lawn Care, Austin (85 employees. $8M and growing). He previously served in the US Marine Corps as Combat Engineer Officer.
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Guys... if you know anyone who lives in Austin... Nolan said he'd cut their lawn for free if they find him through the podcast. If someone gets a free mow through the podcast it would truly make my day!! So please pass this onto anyone you know in TX...
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And finally...​
On people who you admire:​
If you missed last week I invited you to share someone who you admire (living or dead, known to you or not) & why. Feel free to still do so whenever if you feel like, it if you feel so inclined / want to add something. I love hearing from you guys!
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So the idea I had is something like this... I'm really enjoying spending my time working on all the content stuff at the moment (podcast, tiktok, youtube, doing a communication course, etc.). I think I'll be quite happy doing this for a couple of months before returning to full time employment, whatever that may be (even if it means living on toast for a while...). HOWEVER. Working on my own can be quite dull at times. So it's really fun to meet interesting people during the week & London seems to be full of them. But where to begin? Asking you about people who you admire was part of my thought process... like what if I asked my network to introduce me to someone they admired who lived / worked in London? (This of course is not what I asked you guys last week so please don't fear I'll be coming back to you requesting an introduction to your beautiful grandmother or a famous person who is long dead.)
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Okay that's all folks.

Enjoy your weekends.
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P.S. The links below were broken for ages! Woops. They are now fixed xx
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