So, here is something I wrote a few years ago and the theme has reappeared in my Sunday Column today…hmmm
original post was February 25, 2013
I just wanted to share this tidbit with you. It is in line with the many books I’ve read about the power of our subconscious mind – the place with all the answers. I hope you can draw from this…
“During his day, Edison would take time out by himself and relax in a chair or on a sofa. Invariably he would be working on a new invention and seeking creative solutions to the problem he was dealing with. He knew that if he could get into that “twilight state” between being awake and being asleep, he could access the pure creative genius of his subconscious mind.
To prevent himself from crossing all the way over the “genius gap” into deep sleep, he would nap with his hand propped up on his elbow while he clutched a handful of ball-bearings. Then he would just drift off to sleep, knowing that his subconscious mind would take up the challenge of his problem and provide a solution. As soon as he went into too deep a sleep, his hand would drop and the ball-bearings would spill noisily on the floor, waking him up again. He’d then write down whatever was in his mind.”
and more of the same from another earlier post…
There are no answers. We spend our lives asking questions but no one has been able to come up with the answer key. Minds far greater than mine have thought and pondered and died…never returning to let us know if they were right. I suppose that is why really old people, at least the ones that have been observant, are great sources of wisdom and while they don’t have “the answers”, they can make better assumptions. There are messages in their stories and lessons from their lives, but who even listens – youth is being carelessly spent on worldly things.
It can be so Shakespearean…
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
ok, this is deep and dark and Shakespeare can be scary and tragic…I will take the antithesis of this projection and flood my day with light.
I have a lot of questions today; it is a day without a job, a day to be with my thoughts…here’s one I ask myself:
Not now, so, when?