Everyone is a genius at least once a year. The real geniuses

“Everyone is a genius at least once a year. The real geniuses simply have their bright ideas closer together.” — so spoke Georg C. Lichtenberg, the philosopher-scientist of Germany, whose words glimmer like sparks from the forge of wisdom. He reminds us that genius is not a divine accident reserved for the chosen few, but a living flame that dwells within all souls. Every human being, no matter how humble or unlearned, is touched by inspiration at least once in their life — a moment when clarity pierces the fog, when the mind burns bright with vision and truth. Yet those we call “great” are not born different; they are simply those whose bright ideas rise more often, whose flame of insight refuses to die between the hours.

In Lichtenberg’s words, there lies both comfort and challenge. Comfort — because it assures us that no one is without genius, that within each of us lies a spark capable of illuminating the world. Challenge — because it calls us to tend the fire, to bring our sparks closer together until they form a steady light. For what use is one moment of brilliance, if the rest of life is spent in slumber? The real genius is not the one who dreams once, but the one who dares to dream again and again, until vision becomes rhythm, and inspiration becomes habit.

Consider Nikola Tesla, that solitary magician of lightning. His mind did not sleep; his bright ideas followed one another like storms over the horizon. Where others glimpsed the spark once a year, he lived in a tempest of creation. Yet this was not mere chance — it was the fruit of unbroken devotion. Tesla nurtured his imagination as a priest tends a sacred flame. While the world sought comfort, he sought wonder. While others rested, he listened to the whispering of the invisible. His genius was not a gift bestowed — it was a practice maintained.

And yet, even the simplest soul may touch the infinite for a moment. There is the farmer who, in a single dawn of intuition, devises a better way to sow his seed; the mother who, with a flash of love’s insight, finds the perfect word to heal her child; the laborer who, tired and sweating, glimpses a better way to build. These, too, are moments of genius — humble, fleeting, yet radiant with the light of human potential. The difference is not in the spark itself, but in how one tends it thereafter.

To bring one’s bright ideas closer together is to live with awareness, curiosity, and courage. It is to cultivate the soil of the mind, that inspiration may take root more often. The ancients said: “The muses visit only the prepared.” So prepare yourself — through study, reflection, and disciplined action. Write down your thoughts when they come; question the world that surrounds you; let no wonder pass unexamined. Each act of attention is a kindling stick upon your inner fire.

The rhythm of genius, then, is not a miracle but a discipline of the spirit. The wise know that brilliance is not summoned by chance, but awakened by devotion. They chase not glory, but understanding; not praise, but truth. In this way, their “bright ideas” gather like constellations in the night sky — close enough to form a map for others to follow.

The lesson is clear: you already possess genius, but it sleeps unless called forth again and again. Do not wait for the rare lightning of inspiration; build the storm yourself. Read deeply, observe quietly, and act boldly. Bring your moments of insight closer together by living with intention. Over time, your mind will not merely flash once a year, but glow steadily with creative fire.

So remember, child of time — you are not empty clay but living flame. Let your sparks multiply until your life itself becomes a beacon. For in the end, the difference between the ordinary and the extraordinary is not in the light they hold, but in how often they let it shine.