Welcome to My Nightmare!

So there I was, sitting in a meeting room at the Sheraton for a day of management training. I barely qualified to attend these meetings being a mere supervisor, but I was a confident young man who had been recruited from another company to create the department. However, at this point, my 'honeymoon period' had expired, and I was just another mouth to feed.

We were taking Personalysis tests trying to identify the type of people that we are so we can know how each is motivated and better understand ourselves. It was truly one of the more interesting self-evaluation studies I'd been in on, so I was gleaning information about how my mind and motivations work in comparison with other industry professionals, including the CEO and all the levels of VPs that existed!

We were asked to use one word that describes us. It went around the table. People used words like 'organized' and 'thorough.' I said 'iconoclast.' Even the VP who was an aspiring author, and a man I totally respect to this day, said 'huh?' If I had known that no one understood the term, I would have said something like 'progressive,' or some other term common people understand, but which doesn't describe me as well as 'iconoclast.'

You see, I hadn't recognized it yet. All I wanted to do was participate fully. Anyway, my negative child is almost square, despite that squares don't really exist.

My father was a major influence in my life. He wasn't a genius, but he was highly creative and had an insatiable drive for learning. He was wise, and he was a conceptual thinker. I don't recall how old I was when I asked him what he knew about Einstein's theory of relativity. You see, I was strong in my math skills, but I couldn't figure out how e=mc² works when we aren't given any numbers to plug into those variables. He didn't really understand it, but had been shown an example once. He gave me verbal illustration of a scenario in which a train crosses a bridge.

He never got it. I understood it, albeit after some thought was applied to the 'train crossing the bridge' example. I can even explain it in fairly simple terms, but the knowledge won't do much for a person who doesn't apply it to deep creative thought.

Kant defined a genius as one who understands what others would need to be taught AND who is able to create. Schopenhauer added another group to Kant's definition: those in whom intellect predominates will, seemingly adding, amongst others, the geniuses that Asperger would identify about a century later.

Whatever.

Here is what I notice is common among geniuses:

1. They are conceptual, not lineal, thinkers.
2. They are able to compute, or understand, math in ways common people can't.
3. They understand how time works.
4. They use both the analytical and creative sides of the brain in problem-solving or creation.
5. Their theories, though often flawed or short-sighted, add to the knowledge base for future geniuses.
6. They can envision infinity - and beyond.
7. They understand the importance of physical laws and dynamics, and can apply those to arrive at conclusions.
8. They are highly principled, even if the principle isn't particularly accepted by society.
9. They lack the ability to have blind faith.

Geniuses differ from learned people. Education is an accomplishment, and it will open doors, but it doesn't do much for a person's 'uncommon sense.' Education, for the most part, has been reduced to knowing which answer goes on which line. Amongst the throngs of people who now have that piece of paper that tells the world 'this person knows which answer goes on which line' are some people whose thought power is so much greater than the average that they can describe things that will boggle the minds of the others without trying to boggle their minds.

Those around me have been concerned about my sanity for the past several months. I tell them I want solitude at times, and at other times I want companionship. They tell me to make up my mind. I have, and I've said it for years. To wit: I've told my daughter that I love her, and would like her to come and visit me often. She still won't move out. So yesterday, when I told her I needed solitude, and six hours later the population in my house went from three to four (which is the wrong direction to get to one), she got my point when I threw the recycling container at the garage. THEN I got the house to myself for a while.

She called me 'to see if I was all right.' Of course I was all right, but told her I need her to start picking up subtle hints like direct statements.

It drives me crazy, I tell you! In fact, I'd probably go break some religious symbol, but I'm only an iconoclast figuratively!

I have no idea where this blog will head off to. I'm not going to try to control that part of it, but will rather just see where my thoughts lead.

If this crap interests you, and you want to add something, please feel free to do so. I'm moderating the comments to avoid spam, common sense, and other things that waste time.