Zen and the Art of Pressure Washing

So I recently had to clean a relatively large surface (astro turf) with a focused high pressure water cannon.  The beam was focused enough that agonising slivers of green were revealed during every sweep, while the ruddy mottled brown, no matter how hard you try, laughs back.

Being notoriously lazy, a plan was sought to minimise effort.  This plan involved a detailed grey matter image of the surface, contours, and eventual route; considering environmental factors and footprints.  Once the map had been set, following myriad rules such as:  Generally moving from the top of the slope to the bottom, working in three parallel blocks (each sub-divided by two further blocks), moving no more than fifty centimetres forward at a time (on each block), and moving as much detritus (for the cleaner picks up many billions of microscopic particles, congealing them into a macroscopic ooze) to the sides as possible.

These rules generally applied, but were legitimately broken if problems, considering such factors as wind direction, footprints and astro fibre density were found.

While millimetres were cleaned with every sweep, time was taken to contemplate the route - but even this only takes a finite amount of time, considering the task seemed to offer infinite opportunity for inexhaustible fun (the seasons bring further coverings of rain, sand, mud and snow.  Each sweep would appear to take five years to complete, lending the surface to continual cleaning, non-stop, all year round) I had to occupy spare grey cell computational cycles.  Therein lies the zen methodology.  Plan your pebble garden (or cleaning duty) around a simple and convenient pre-meditated (sic) plan, and follow it, being as detached as possible.  The mind goes blank, and one awakes to find the work either complete, or someone firing paintballs at him.  Either way, some amount of time has passed, and the world is a little cleaner/aesthetically pleasing.

What to Do...?

So I'm sitting in my bed, unable to sleep.  This is not an uncommon occurrence, in the world of Me; what is frustrating is my lack of combatative ability.  People swear by green tea, honey and lemon this, or herbal that, and it's what works for them.  Obviously; these remedies are purely psychological, they stem from nothing more than a willingness, the minds' own tricks to help perform ephemeral tasks.  What is sleep, afterall?

This has been a constant problem for me, and one I feel deserves something more than a mere patch of lines within the internet-ether; but this ability to trick yourself into believing nonsense is one that I've never quite mastered.  I must clarify this somewhat, before I continue.

I am not talking about being duped.  Being duped is something I am a past master at, and consider myself lucky to be so gullible, on occasion.  On the less fortunate occasions I have found myself on the receiving end of lifes little hidings, as per my final year at university; however life evens out eventually, so the bad times, due to naivety, will be righted by my blundering, naively (as naivety and ease of dupedness, are one and the same in my eyes) into a positive situation.  Being duped then, is something that happens to everyone.  Not knowing something is false is an easy trick to master.

Knowing something is false, and believing it with your whole heart.  Now, we're onto some kind of David Blain magic trick here.

And yet people do it all the time.  Drinking your green tea is great, despite the fact it contains caffeine, which increases all the pressures and rates that make sleeping harder.  If I told you it was a magic sleeping potion, and you knew no better as to what tea was, then great; you would fall asleep in a heartbeat.  But knowing what tea is, and still falling asleep.  Again, magic tricks.  This follows onto a whole host of other things:  Tarot cards, mind reading, magic tricks, (ironic, no?) the zodiac (Although I'm a dragon, and that's just goddamned cool as hell).  The list is endless, and includes such things as vitamin pills and protein shakes.

Interestingly, I take the last two things, although I'm not entirely convinced they're useless (yes I see the irony in this statement, jeez).  This is an interesting grey area that surely warrants more research.  If a product has dubious proof as to its' verisimilitude, and a person doubts the product; does the inverse square law apply here?  Mathematicians rejoice, the ninth unsolvable conundrum has been posed.  Alas, I cannot offer a million dollars to the solution provider, I have a mars bar and a five pound note.  Good luck, pioneers.

And so ultimately this is why I've always rued my chance at being born american.  If you simply believe what you're told, and you are told everything that you need to do, in order to live; your life will be as happy and fulfilling as the order-givers allow it to be.  In this case, those who give the orders are the government.  Eat X number of calories a day, eat X number of vegetables, drink this much water, etcetera.  Your entire life is planned out for you - from the basic requirements of everyday living, through to your overarching destiny.  You will live here if you meet this demographic, you will have this many children, you will have this many cars.  Anyone who ventures there from a country where some kind of independence is taught, good luck.  You may find it liberating to be the one eyed man, but it may also be crushing.  To anyone who comes from a country that neglects these values in favour of more idealisms; you should fit right in.

If you don't have to think about anything, you don't have to know why.  'Why' is the question that essentially breaks my illusion; 'why' is what makes people sad, annoyed, angry etcetera.  'Why' is never the question that makes you happy.  'Why' gives you momentary glimpses of happiness, whether it be the answering of a question that has puzzled you, giving an endorphine based rush that lasts all of five seconds; but it never gives a person more than those five seconds.  If you must be pedantic and argue those five seconds is a time of giving, then I would argue that 'why' is as guilty of taking those pleasures away, as giving them.  If Adam and Eve had never stepped foot in the garden of eden, and had simply lived upon the Earth as we know it now; they would not have been sad or heartbroken at their loss, because there would have been no loss.

Before I get concerned communiques about my newfound religious ideals; I have none.  It's just an example.  Get over it.  You know who you are; all three of you!

And even after all this writing, that will surely take some time to vet, I am not inclined to sleep.  I wonder at what stage not sleeping becomes physically unhealthy.  Not in terms of single stints of sleeplessness, because I know death can occur around eight days or so, (depending on the individual, a lot longer is viable) but in terms of the many years that this has happened to me.  Neural degradation is likely, as they might say on Star Trek.

Anyway.  I could write forever in the state I am in, or at least until my brain dissolves; which will be roughly twenty minutes, at my current gas mark level.