It wasn’t about physics. I don’t even know where to start with that, Maggie. So, today’s post is dedicated to you, my physics purist friend. 😉 In my world, everything’s about physics. Tomorrow, I think we should talk about dark matter (i.e. crumbs.)
My favorite book is To Him That Believeth, by Frederick Babbel. He and I share an absolute commitment to the belief that thoughts are as powerful as any other force, and sometimes as measurable. The whole book is dedicated to that concept and its explanation, but one chapter details an experiment described at a National Archives training, and the Navy students who designed and performed it.
To prove his idea wrong that a force sent out multiplies, in a universe consumed by entropy, they took a heavy plank, on which was mounted a seismograph and under which was mounted a sonar sounding device, and floated it in the middle of a lake. They then threw a large boulder into the lake. The seismograph recorded the splash, waves, and the ripples as they reached the shoreline. However after the ripples disappeared, the seismograph recorded waves of almost three times the intensity of the initial splash. The sonar duplicated this observation, that the force of the wave that returned was three times that which originally was created.
It’s late and I still have to finish editing an analysis of “disparate treatment” vs “disparate impacts” as interpreted by the Supreme Court, so I won’t go into the measurable forces of emotions and thoughts. But I firmly believe, that whatever they are, they multiply. Law of the Harvest.
So I leave with the poem that I loosely paraphrased yesterday, but nobody must have recognized. I do actually like good poetry, and this has all the subtlety of a plodding nursery rhyme, but it hung in my kitchen for years and got me through some rough, rough times. Inelegant, but effective, and a whole heck of a lot of my life has been that way.
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won if he’d stuck it out.
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are –
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.