Fizzing Thoughts

I've discovered a conundrum (and it's a good thing I have spell check).

I've determined how to access an extra bit of brain percentage
(do we really only use 10%? Nope, that's a myth, I just Googled it).


When this special moment occurs, where I am able to break free from regular thought,
my creativity bubbles over like pink champagne
and my mind froths with inspiration.




I come up with amazing story ideas, brilliant blog posts
and solutions to cure world hunger and spread peace around the globe.




You think I'm kidding?

I kid you not.

What's the secret?

Drugs? Alcohol? Deep meditation and transcendental transcendence?

Nope.

The secret lies in those last few minutes of consciousness before I fall asleep.
Those moments in my trance-like slumber state,
the house quiet, the fan whirring, the dog snoring,
the deep even breathes from my children
and the wind brushing tree branches against our windows...
this is my nirvana.
Just before I drift away to dreams of colored pens, blank paper and mountain retreats,
inspiration hits me.
Hard.
My mind suddenly hikes paths through a forest of ideas.




I meander through the trees, stopping to explore caves of plot and jump into fast-paced rivers of insiration, plunging eventually over a waterfall of deep ideas.





It's all so wonderful, so magical, so right, that I know there is no way I'll forget this by morning. I'm certain I'll awaken tomorrow with this immediately on my mind, ready to explore further. Potential rumbles like a thunderstorm ready to break loose.
The negatively-charged ions release, dancing into the air.

Briefly it occurs to me, like a glimpse of an eagle soaring overhead, that I should grab a notebok and jot down some of these thoughts and ideas...



Nah. It'll still be there come morning.
How could it not?

Then I burst through the forest into a field of flowers
and lie down among their colorful softness to fall asleep.




Happy. Replete with a whirlpool of visions swirling in my head. Ideas to explore come morning...

And then I wake up the next morning with a slight hint of pine, a wet leaf stuck to my foot and no memory of what I found in the forest, the caves, and the river.

I'm going to capture that cool mountain air and map those forest paths.
One day soon.
Maybe tonight.