While meandering through a bookstore, I discovered a wealth of books for dummies and idiots. You have probably seen the many volumes directed at stupid people, such as Computers for Dummies and Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating. I even saw Complete Idiot’s Guide to Near-Death Experiences! There are hundreds of titles in each of these very popular series, and the number is growing rapidly.
I was struck by how readily we identify ourselves as dummies and idiots. Obviously we think we are stupid, and these books will help. I wonder what would happen if I published a similar series for geniuses, such as Golf for Sages or The Complete Genius’s Guide to Home Repair. I have a hunch they wouldn’t sell very well at all. Not because we are not geniuses. Because we have been trained to regard ourselves as stupid.
When I was little, I sat on my front porch one morning and sang several rousing verses of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” A few days later I overheard my mother casually tell someone, “Alan has a foghorn voice.” That idea made an impression on me, and I did not sing for many years. After all (at that age), your mother knows everything, and if she said I couldn’t sing, I couldn’t sing.
Perhaps you had a similar experience. Perhaps early in life you adopted a thought about yourself that defined you as small, ugly, incapable, or unlovable. Most of us did. And perhaps you went on to live as if that identity was true. And perhaps, like many, you collected a pool of tears in your heart and went through life hurting because you wished you could be more.
You are more. The genius you were born as, still lives, and can be reactivated at any moment. Genius is your reality and the dark programming is your adopted personality. When Abraham (through Esther Hicks) was challenged, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Abraham answered, “You have no idea what an old dog you are!” Who you were before you learned self-defeating tricks, is still very much available and eager to come forth and shine.
There is a story in the annals of education about an elementary school teacher who arrived on the first day of school and perused her class roster. Next to each child’s name was the number of a very high I.Q. “126, 135, 140,” Miss Everett read aloud, eyebrows raised. “Thank goodness I finally got a bright class!”
Miss Everett went on to stimulate the loftiest abilities in her wiz-kids. She gave them challenging projects, took them on field trips, and offered them leeway to explore their work in creative ways.
At the end of the semester all the students earned A’s and B’s.
The day after report cards came out, the principal called her into his office and asked, “Miss Everett, what did you do with these kids?”
“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.
“You took some of the lowest-functioning students in the school and turned them into geniuses!”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” the teacher replied. “These kids were bright when I got them. Here, just look at their I.Q.’s in my roll book.”
The principal scanned her roster and replied, astonished, “Miss Everett, these are their locker numbers!”
