August 2nd of last year, I was in a pretty stout traffic accident.
A young mom in a mini-van had just taken her infant daughter to the pediatrician for some routine shots.
Mom was distracted by her daughter, ran a red light, hit the left front corner of a pick-up, and then hit my car in the driver's door.
The result, after spinning my Bonneville, was a buckled roof, a level 2 brain concussion, and an end to a racing season that I was starting late in.
When my wife and daughter arrived, the driver of the mini-van asked me how I was.
I told her I was hearing voices-
Eleanor Roosevelt - pleading with me to take her to the prom!
The young mom was clearly concerned, until my wife told her I was okay.
Thing is, any of us who has ideas, creates value, develops concepts, writes short stories, paints - you name it - "hears voices-" the muses, the motivators, the inspirations from which the "art" of life issues forth.
Sometimes, if I am burned-out from going too fast, doing too much, for too long, I find myself operating mechanically, even reactively - a victim of life rather than an actor upon it.
I realize then I am not hearing the voice in my head, and I have to ask -
A young mom in a mini-van had just taken her infant daughter to the pediatrician for some routine shots.
Mom was distracted by her daughter, ran a red light, hit the left front corner of a pick-up, and then hit my car in the driver's door.
The result, after spinning my Bonneville, was a buckled roof, a level 2 brain concussion, and an end to a racing season that I was starting late in.
When my wife and daughter arrived, the driver of the mini-van asked me how I was.
I told her I was hearing voices-
Eleanor Roosevelt - pleading with me to take her to the prom!
The young mom was clearly concerned, until my wife told her I was okay.
Thing is, any of us who has ideas, creates value, develops concepts, writes short stories, paints - you name it - "hears voices-" the muses, the motivators, the inspirations from which the "art" of life issues forth.
Sometimes, if I am burned-out from going too fast, doing too much, for too long, I find myself operating mechanically, even reactively - a victim of life rather than an actor upon it.
I realize then I am not hearing the voice in my head, and I have to ask -
"Where's Eleanor?"
Have you "heard from Eleanor" today?
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