When it goes quiet in the kitchen


PS. If you look really closely you can see half a mug of tea on the table, dripping off onto the carpet. Nice.

PPS. I've got such an avalanche of thoughts in my head I'm not even wanting to start writing them down - because if I do start, it's gonna be a never-ending, uhm, avalanche of disjointed, uhm, stuff.

But heck, it's my blog, I can do whatever I want here.

Alright, Maria, you've convinced me. Here we go then.

A neuroscientist was talking on the radio yesterday: they've been studying dying rats and turns out, right during death, there's a whole lotta  activity in the brain's visual center which she says, explains why people that have been brought back from the brink of death report lucid out-of-body experiences.

She also said that - and try to really listen here, alright? - that it shows that these lucid experiences just happen inside the brain.

And that's when I thought, wait a minute. What do you mean, just happen inside the brain?

Everything happens inside the brain.

When I see a butterfly floating above our roofline, it is my brain taking the information in, processing it and then giving me the picture of a butterfly. I don't actually know if my butterfly looks exactly the same as, say, your butterfly - I don't even know if there is a butterfly there.

I don't know if my blue is the same as your blue. We all call it blue, sure, but we don't actually know if the pictures we see in our heads are the same because there's no objective way of measuring blue - it's our brains' visual centers processing the light and the wavelength and as humans we've found ways to call colours, well, whatever: red, blue, green, black.

Sorry, I'm getting off topic here. What I mean is, how do you separate something that "happens inside the brain" from something that we'd call "reality"? Everything we see, hear and feel "happens inside the brain".

And then in the words of my workmate we discussed this with: I wonder what's the evolutional / biological purpose of this sort of a during-death experience?

Makes me wonder, doesn't it.

Oh, and then another radio programme: they were talking about research that was conducted in the States where they took 2000 obese women, put them on equal-content-and-calorie diets with the only difference being, half of these women got most of their calories in the morning with breakfast, with small lunch and very light dinner, and another half had a modest breakfast with bulk of their calories in lunch and dinner. And they found that, oh, look, the ones that had big breakfasts lost weight quicker!

To which my husband went: well no shit Sherlock. If you eat the stuff in the morning then this energy gets used up in your muscles whereas the evening stuff would have to be put away in your liver for later use.

Besides, all this late-evening dinner stuff ends up floating in the stomach overnight... Ugh.

Anyway, next thing: I'm grateful that some of my friends get to use EQC (earthquake commission, to people that aren't familiar with the topic) support for counselling. Painting walls and straightening floors in earthquake damaged houses is important, sure, but to some people it's the counselling that makes a difference.

A lady that fled Christchurch's Red Zone days after the February 2011 earthquake would've probably... I can't say never taken up counselling because maybe in years to come she would've, on her own accord, but she was a low-income, unsettled family background, disillusioned-in-herself sort of a woman and to her family, EQC counselling made all the difference. She was able to sort through years of grime that had been uprooting her family and today, she is a much happier version of herself.

Because of the earthquakes. Weird, isn't it.

Okay, what next... Oh, yeah: I realised the other day that two of my workmates I like the most are an alcoholic and a guy who has taken up employment only because New Zealand government made him to, in order to continue receiving financial support.

And that made me sort of go, oh. Does that say something about me, or my workplace?

I think the answer is, me. I like people that are different and especially if they're knowingly different. I might not agree with the whole financial support thing, or alcoholism, or whatever, but I'd take that any day to a conformist, non-opinioned, rule-abiding existence.

There are very few people in the world that are actually boring, but the ones that are... Geesh!

And the last thing: somehow me and The Man got onto psychological testing topic yesterday and I dug out my old DISC assessment result. Here:


I don't know if many of you understand how DISC works and can read this picture. And even if you do, you'd have to know a little more about me to do anything with this information, but... it made me wonder: what the heck am I doing!?

Maria, you have dreams. You know what some of those dreams are. Go follow your dreams, goddamit!

PPPS. And in case you're wondering how I could write all that at 7 o'clock Thursday morning before work, the answer is: Monsters Inc.

;)

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