A big bang idea

All ideas start with a spark of electricity. An electrical impulse which travels through synapses to become an action.

And there you have it: Life.

Congratulations. You are now the proud parent of an idea.

My two children started out as an idea. An idea that I wanted them. And I got two beautiful girls. (Of course, there was a lot of two-ing and fro-ing with the client. Got knocked back a few times, but I persevered.)

I am an ardent believer that absolutely anything is possible. If you can imagine it, it can be done. Time travel, yes. Star Trek teleporter thingamibobs, yes. Less than a hundred years ago, if you had said we would fly rockets to the moon most people would think you a loon. But somebody, somewhere had an idea that it was possible. Not necessarily the person who invented the rocket but way before that. Before Copernicus. Think stone age man staring up at the glowing creamy orb and wondering what it must be like to set foot on it.

That’s how a lot of ideas start. They don’t begin and end with the author. They get transferred to other people. People who believe your idea is a good one. It gathers momentum and before you know it, it isn’t an idea anymore. It’s a thing. A noun. It lives.

Here’s an idea: What if that’s all we are – An Idea? The whole universe, an idea that somebody dreamed up. Who? Perhaps it’s a kid looking out of his bedroom window staring up at a moon. Or a little girl imagining a make believe world, or a scientist wondering what life might be like on another planet. Whoever it was, I think they’ve buggered off for their dinner.

The point? If you can think it, it can be done. If you believe in it, it will gather momentum. You will have to nurture it at first with the tender loving care a parent should give its baby. But at some stage you have to let it go and grow up all by itself. It’s not yours anymore. It has its own friends. It’s own opinions and you might not necessarily always agree with them. Maybe they don’t turn out quite as you had hoped. Maybe they’re more Batley High School than Oxford. But still, it is your baby and you should be proud.

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