"Be still, sad heart, and cease repining,
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall;
Some days must be dark and dreary."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (The Rainy Day)

.............
Way too often do we mock the simple in favour of the contrived, the exotic, the manipulative. But way too often do I turn to the simplicity of these words, ignore any accusations of their being trite, and accept the simple logic and wisdom in them. One of my few mottos.

Exploration into bizarre yet frequent occurences

I am going to borrow a little of Flaff's philosophy - there's too much personal stuff going round, to add my blogbits to it. Besides, personal details do not quite fit with the whole no-name blogging thing. So, these shall be kept few and far between. Does not mean one shall not write about serious stuff - one does not compete with the Flaffmeister.

So, to today's topic -

Hypnic jerks.

Which, for the unitiated into the jargon of medical mafia, is that point of time when you're just falling asleep, or are asleep, and are dreaming that you're about to fall into a giant pot of honeyed jello after being thrown off the back of a giant flying spider from 6,000 miles in the air - and then wake up with a gasp, shout, sudden random jerking of limbs.

You don't dream that? How odd.

Now, interesting theories abound.

Some suggest that when it happens just while you're falling to sleep through exhaustion, it's because the brain interprets the sudden relaxing of muscles as an indicator that you are actually falling, and so 'jerks' you awake.

Some suggest that when it happens while you're in mid-sleep, then it's usually because you went to sleep stressed, or don't sleep well. And the brain (poor, confused thing) can't figure out whether to relax muscles, or to be wound up. And so decides to give you a good prod, and asks you to please make up your mind, because some of us like clarity of purpose ok? Sheeeeesh!

And some suggest it's caused by the return of the soul into the body, from its peregrinations into the astral plane. The whole "I am now free of my mortal flesh, and will be one with the Aatman, and roam the universe, and ......naaaaaaaaaaaahin, don't take me back, nonononononono....jerk!" experience.

I think I'm going to go with being a regular transcendentalist. It's by far the coolest explanation. (I do wish the damn things would stop though. The last one made my pulse run up to 130)

It's all about trying to be unique, isn't it? All of us with our little niches, our little peculiarities, eccentricities, peccadilloes, fetishes, phobias, nuances, schools-of-thought.

All trying to be different.
Individual.

Trying hard to convince ourselves that our life, our existence matters. That things will be different if we go on struggling, and fighting, and surviving. The brave underdog, the lone fighter, to the last-man-standing. Don't give up, fight, scrape....survive, survive, survive!

Shite.

Nothing matters. Everything that can be, has been, and even if something hasn't, it won't affect a damn thing in the wider world. There are no new emotions, no new events, no new thoughts.

Including these words.

*****************************
So you go two ways -
give up on the world, ambition, dreams, obligations. Decide it's pointless going through a treadmill that's been worn out over millions of years. And probably, end your life.

Or, learn not to care anymore. Not on a conscious, front-of-brain way, but in a deeper, underlying background. It doesn't matter - so why care? Sickness, poverty, death, broken friendships, betrayed love - it doesn't matter. It's all going to end one day, either with your death, or with the end of the world, or the collapse of the Universe.

Oh you still drool over a lovely dessert, or frown at litterbugs, or yell when your team wins. But there's a part of you that stands quietly against the doorframe, with the faintest twitch of a tolerant smile, knowing you're just hiding from the truth. You see the world through two eyes, and think two thoughts. Always.

You stop searching for 'higher goals', and 'ultimate purposes', and the 'why'. And just....exist.

*****************************

Trying to make sense of life is pointless. It's not some manufactured creation, which should be expected to follow rules. People are stupid because they are. Horrible things happen because they do. There's no sense, no underlying meaning to it all - everything just... is. And we just are.

And oddly enough, that makes it easier to live life.

Reversible soup

Spinach (fresh preferably).
Peas.
Spring Onions.
Potato.
Garlic, cloves 2, chopped.
Cayenne pepper, coriander powder, mint, basil, salt, pepper.

Garlic fried until golden. Cumin seeds added. Wait for sputter, add potatoes, spring onions. Stir for 3 minutes, with cayenne pepper and coriander powder. Add spinach, peas, mint, basil, salt, pepper, 1/2 litre water. Boil, then simmer for 5 minutes. Remove, puree into broth, add cream (as much as you love), simmer for 3 minutes.

Serve hot in winter, with garlic bread.
Serve chilled in summer, with salad.