TheGuild
Member
Joined: 22 Jun 2007
Posts: 144
|
# Posted: 29 Aug 2007 16:06 � Edited by: TheGuild
Reply
"Napoleon, what should I write about today?" I asked Mr. Hill, author of 'Think and Grow Rich.
I didn't expect him to answer but, guess what? He did!
He replied, "Well, Rob, why not talk about that night you scared away the robbers?"
"Why would anyone be interested in that story?" I asked him. "It happened such a long time ago. I was only nine years old."
"Do you not remember reading my fourteenth chapter about the sixth sense?" he asked me.
"The sixth sense, yes. But vaguely."
"I wrote how it is natural for human beings to be able to tap into their intuitive powers. Do you remember now?"
"Yes. You talked about how you would confer with Edison, Paine, Ford, Carnegie and Lincoln in your imagination every night and have meetings with them. And how you would gain insight from them into things on a deeper level than you could ever achieve had you tried on your own without their help. I thought you were pretty weird."
"Gee, thanks. But do you remember how I also talked about our natural ability to fortell the future? I gave as an example the amazing phenomenon of time shifting and warping before an impending disaster, allowing the individual to who this is occuring enough time to respond or react in time to avoid it, sometime with only a fraction of a second to spare. These are commonly referred to as "hunches" or "flashes of insight."
"I remember now, Napoleon. But what's all that got to do with my experience of scaring away the robbers?"
"Tell the story and you may see for yourself!" Napoleon prodded.
"Okay but if I bore anybody with it, I'm going to blame you!" I said to him.
As I said, I was nine years old when the following events happened to me. Night had fallen and my dad pulled into the snow-covered driveway. From the back seat of the car, I lifted my head to look out the driver's window at our house. It felt odd.
I felt odd. Something wasn't right.
Nothing appeared to be different about the house. We had pulled into the driveway at night hundreds of times before and I never got this feeling before. Maybe it was just from having been woken up. I had fallen asleep on the drive home from my uncle's house and I was still feeling groggy. I was in that state of being somewhat awake but half asleep at the same time.
The porch lights weren't on. My mother had forgotten to turn them on before we left the house earlier that day. But the full moon shone brightly enough causing its light to reflect off the blanket of snow on the ground. I could see my way up the path to the front door of the house perfectly. I ran.
As I got closer to the front door, something told me to slow down. I did.
Next, I got a flash or whatever you want to call it. It told me to shout and ring the doorbell. I did.
"Hey you robbers! You better run or my dad's gonna' beat you up!"
My mother's voice rose up rom behind me. She yelled, scolding me for shouting. "Be quiet before you wake up the neighbours!" The neighbours' houses were on either side of us and accross the street and it was about midnight or so.
My father unlocked the door. I hesitated to enter. But I got shoved inside. "Come on, hurry up. Get inside before you let all the heat out!"
It was really cold inside. It shouldn't be this cold, I thought to myself.
I listened to the house. I couldn't hear anything unusual.
I looked around me. Something was missing.
Before I could say anything, my mother gave a hushed and startled cry of alert. "Oh my God! The TV's gone!"
My dad bolted up the stairs. I started to follow him but my mother grabbed me by the coat tail and stopped me in my tracks.
"Dad! NO!!" I yelled.
It didn't feel right to me. I sensed that my dad was heading for danger.
I managed to get away from my mother and shot up the stairs into the dining room. There were wet footprints all over the floor. The patio doors were wide open and the foot prints led outside into the backyard and into the woods behind our house. I ran to the door and yelled for my dad. I could faintly hear a scuffle at the tree line.
The moon lit up the yard enough to see two men in the snow on top of each other. One of them was my dad and the other was whoever was inside the house a moment earlier. I looked back into the house to see where my mom was. She was dialing the telephone, getting the police on the line.
Next, my dad came running back to the house and shouted to my mother to call the police. "Bastard got away and I think he broke my nose!"
My mother was frantic. She leaned into my father for running after the robber. "You could have got yourslef killed! How did you know he didn't have a weapon?" she scolded.
"It's alright sweety. I'm okay." He held her and she wiped a few tears from her face. I looked back out the window and at the wet and dirty dining room floor. I looked at where the TV was supposed to be and back at my parents. My dad's face was full of blood and he was holding his nose with a towel.
"Wow." I said to myself. And my mother looked at me kind of weird. "How did you know there was a thief in the house?" she asked me.
I said I didn't know. To this day, I still don't know. But that experience certainly served to prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is more to our minds than what we are usually taught to believe about it. Sixth sense? Call it whatever you want. It's real and Napoleon Hill says you can tap into it at will if you learn how. Read his book!
"Thanks for the plug, Rob. I appreciate that." Napoleon said suddenly.
I looked at him understanding now, and said, "No. Thank YOU, Napoleon. Thank you for reminding me of that experience and for showing me it's possible to learn how to reconnect with that sixth sense in me."
To Your Success!
Rob Nyte
__________________
|
(?)
