Deep in thought, I was just one creative idea away from helping another dozen people become millionaires.
“Honey… do you know where the red bucket is?”
Jarred out of the magical flow of ideas, I slowly reacquainted with my surroundings.
I directed Wife to the bucket.
She has her bucket, but 12 nearly-millionaires, who I’ve never met, are still out there slaving paycheck-to-paycheck.
We interrupt people far too cavalierly. It makes me wonder what astonishing discoveries 7 billion of us are going without because Einstein was pestered to mow the lawn.
Interruptions deserve to be classified as more than interruptions. They stop our thought. Steal our focus. Change our state.
They rip us out of our own brain. This should be illegal. But because it happens hundreds of times each day, it’s “normal.”
If we respected our focused imagination as much as we respect Einstein’s, perhaps we’d fight harder to protect all those people that our great ideas could save.
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