I heard this great story some time back. Samuel Coleridge was a great writer. On one occasion in the summer of 1797, Coleridge was taking a nap. In this nap, he was given a grand vision of a poem, the verses already worked out. Coleridge woke up and quickly began writing down each line. But then, there came a knock at the door. Later in his notes, he refers to his visitor as “a man from Porlock” and gives no clue as to why he came or what took place. He returned to the poem as hour later, only to find that while he still retained a vague recollection of this dream, the rest had vanished like the morning mist. He tried to piece it together as best he could but from his point of view it never was like the original. The work is Coleridge’s "Kubla Khan".
In the last post, we had seen how interruptions are a part of life. The truth about interruptions is that we can’t avoid them. But we can definitely handle them. So how do we do that?
