Of late, my mind has been inundated with analogies for the process demented minds (at least the DBL mind) take on a journey from the genesis of an idea to its completion. Why these insights have befallen me...I have no idea, but as they have, I’m taking the opportunity to subject you, the unsuspecting reader, to my ramblings. With no further adieu, and listed in no particular order nor in toto, here we go.
§ My 1st epiphany came to me while watching spring football practice. In my analogy, the football is the idea, the running back is my mind trying to carry out an idea, and the awaiting defense is anything keeping me from taking that idea to fruition. As I see it going, the idea is conceived and put out for consideration (the football is hiked) and handed off to the running back (my mind on the way to completion of the idea). The running back, initially, is off and running, slipping through the line , untouched, and suddenly he can see the goal line with a seemingly clear path. When suddenly, out of nowhere, a defender the running back has not seen, absolutely clobbers him, causing a fumble of the football. IOW, I get the idea and start on my merry little way to carry out the idea when suddenly, B-A-M!, a door shuts, someone speaks, the wind blows...”Squirrel”!....anything really, and I’m blindsided. The idea has been fumbled from my mind, often, not to be recovered. Occasionally, the team will rally and carry the ball to the score. Sometimes that’s a touchdown, others it’s a field goal. But either way, I’m enthused to reach the goal line in some manner.
§ My second mind blower involves an hour glass. “Like sands through the hour glass, so are the days of our lives”, sorry I couldn’t help myself. That brought me back to the days of my youth when I would often find myself playing at my aunts house during the day as she watched her “stories” and this was the iconic catch phrase that has stuck with me all these many years and I just subjected you to. If you’re old enough to remember the daytime “stories“, I hope that brought a smile, for the younger set, just ignore it. Meanwhile, back to my fantasies...as I said, this one involves an hour glass. The grains of sand slipping through the hour glass represent my mind (the hour glass) trying to contain those selfsame grains of sand (the ideas). As the idea is formed (the hour glass) begins to fill with the grains of sand until full (my understanding of the idea is as complete as it will be). Then I’m off to carry out the idea, much as the sand begins slipping through the hour glass when I begin to wonder about the purpose of my idea (more sand slips through), then I begin to doubt I actually remember what I started out to do (the hour glass is less than half full) when, suddenly, I have no idea why I started on this journey (time has run out, the hour glass is empty) and I have no choice but to start over. Occasionally, this means I can turn the hour glass over and start anew. More likely though, in the process, the hour glass has been shattered, or at least horribly cracked, unknown whether it can be repaired.
§ Third on the hit list, is the delivery man rushing across a section of sidewalk where he does not see a patch of ice. Of course, he slips on the ice (any other ideas that may rush into my mind) ands falls flat of his fanny, throwing his package (the idea) into the air. But, almost unimaginably, that single package falls back to earth, and on top of the delivery man’s head, as a multitude of packages, so mixed that they may never be unentangled. So goes my single minded idea when confronted with a multitude of stimuli on the way to carrying out that idea.
§ OK, I promise, this is the last one. I have many more but even a healthy mind can only tolerate so much. In this scenario, steam is involved. As it goes, the water is put on to boil (the idea is born) and allowed to come to a roiling boil (I’m off to carry out the idea), producing a butt load of steam. The problem arises when I try to grasp the concept of the idea on my way to carry it out. It seems as though I can almost grasp the concept when suddenly, much as trying to grasp a wisp of steam, it slips through my fingers and is gone forever. Sometimes it burns my hand because I left it in the steam too long (the fog overwhelms my mind because I overtaxed it trying to understand something that has become unfathomable to me).
So, there are some of my musings. I sincerely hope it gives some insight into the strange behaviors your LO sometimes exhibits.
Take care,
Randy
