christine alexis virgins of the screen.

You’re walking with me through a dark hall. Sconces flicker on either side as we come to a tall set of double doors. I turn to you and smile.

“I was told I should write about a few different things today. I’m a little loathe to dive deep into religious structures. I’m a little loathe to talk about politics,” I say, cocking my head. I grip the ancient metal handles, bracing my body for the pull.

“Instead, I’ll talk about ideas,” I say, as the doors open, revealing the enormous room. Your gasp as you struggle to understand the nature of the space. “Come on, I need to find something”

While it’s fun to explore how I think about consciousness spaces, for a moment, let’s return to the here and now.

I have ideas all the time. I have a process of deciding. Deciding isn’t always conscious, though I had to this morning. I had to sit and sift through the landscape of my mind.

This is why I see the large room. It’s cluttered, brimming with objects, most are unrecognizable – unlike anything you’ve seen in real life. There I am, climbing into the enormous piles, looking over ideas. The objects hold miniature movies of a concept or the moment I had it. I push one to the side. I push another. I go through them, throwing them over my shoulders, into other piles, letting them clatter to the floor. There are so many discards, except everything in this room is treasure.

Good ideas glow. They snap into some space in my solar plexus and a warmth spreads through me. There’s a lightening – an expanding in my body as I recognize the idea’s worth.

That goes for moments when I sift through the treasure trove, but I don’t sift all the time.

Saturday morning I was in the shower and I had a big idea. I’ve been thinking and stewing over what direction to go with my compassion work, and it hit me.

When that happens, it’s a bolt hitting my body. I stand up, my eyes stare at nothing, then I smile slowly.

“That’s it!” I whisper. Then louder, “That’s it!”

I grin, dance, and hum as I let the possibilities of the idea wash over me – how perfect it is, bringing everything I’ve been doing and learning together in one perfect idea.

Historically, the trouble isn’t the bolt. The bolt is never the trouble. In fact, nothing about that fusses me.

It used to be sifting the trove would cause me angst. Sometimes it still does. I would find two or three, or twenty, ideas that sounded so amazing – so wonderful. I could hold them up, feel their warmth spread, and see all manner of beautiful potential realities streaming out and around these glorious ideas.

But to spend time on one is to ignore the others.

“I MUST DO ALL THE THINGS!” I cry. Despondent, I fling them all down, collapsing onto my back as overwhelm creeps through my gut.

I sigh, sit up, pushing back my waves.

“I just have to find the one that glows the most. Let it’s light overwhelm the others.”

Out of the corner of my eye, something gleams. I turn and see the glow overpowering everything around it. I pull it from the clutter.

“What is it?” you ask from the floor. I grin wildly, holding up the gleaming thought.

“It’s the right idea.”

Do you struggle to find the right idea? What process do you use to find yours? Leave a comment below!

How to Find Ideas
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