My beautiful mind

I've been wondering why I like to just stop everything and think. Lie in bed in the morning thinking for a good hour, for example.

This morning it dawned on me. It's my brain, undoubtedly the most amazing toy I'll ever have, incomparable in the world of gimmick. I love to play with it.

It makes things out of nothing. Well, not really nothing, but from an inventory of ... what? ... billions of items? That are, by the way, mostly easily and instantly retrievable (less so as I age!).

It connects past and present like a bridge. I can connect with my mom, dad, husband -- all deceased -- through memory. Put them on stage at will. Or put myself on stage from another time in my life. Replay my daughter when she was a baby. See Paris again.

It entertains me with Mozart, scenes of the Grand Canyon or the movie Dr. Zhivago, all without a laptop or headphones.

Sometimes it comes up with what Amazon would call a "surprise me!" gift (as in: "Where did that come from?") I can set it to operate it under my strict supervision, on autopilot, or totally unleash it.

Why have I not realized this before?

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