A Morning Walk in the Neuronal Forest.

Hippocampus woke up abruptly. The brain was incredibly quiet – worryingly quiet. He listened carefully and could not quite believe it. Lately, Amygdala would have been running around like a madman by now because something would have scared him and triggered some kind of anxiety or rage. Today, however, was so quiet that Hippocampus was able to hear the deep and monotonous sound of the Neuronal Forest.  

He looked cautiously and inquisitively out of the window and over at Amygdala’s house. It was all dark and the curtains were drawn. Imagine if this were the day that Hippocampus would be able do his job properly again? For several months this was exactly what he had been longing for. So far, he had only been allowed small pockets of shallow concentration and he had to admit to himself that he was not too pleased with the result. He had, of course, been able to store a bit of knowledge here and there, but he had been longing for a huge breakthrough in bigger thoughts.  

Hippocampus tiptoed over to Amygdala’s house and listened at the door. Indeed, all was quiet. It reminded him of the good old days when the brain was able to immerse itself without having Amygdala running around making a scene about something totally irrelevant. As soon as Amygdala was in this particular mood there was nothing Hippocampus could do – apart from quickly hide inside his house until the commotion had come to an end. This was only possible, however, if he had been able to sense an imminent threat in time. If a threat appeared out of the blue Hippocampus would have to find another hiding place inside the forest instead.  

Hippocampus, or Hippo amongst friends, lived in the Neuronal Forest where he looked upon himself as being a bit of a forester. (This was probably the best term he had been able to find for himself).  

The Neuronal Forest was based in the brain of the owner and Hippo was not at all sure if the owner knew anything about what occurred beneath his skull and the rest of his body. Not that it actually mattered that much, according to Hippo. As long as the inhabitants of the brain had a good working relationship with the owner, all was well.  

A lot had changed lately, however, and Hippo had to admit that he had a growing concern for what was going on. Not that he had to think about it right now, though.  

Well, he was going to take advantage of this peaceful morning and just walk around inside his beloved forest.  

Hippo knew how important his work in the brain was, but he never blew his own trumpet.  

He was but a humble little lad who worked the most effectively when there was complete peace and quiet in the brain. He sometimes dreamed of having the same strength as Amygdala by being able to cut through everything and just do whatever he thought best for the owner. Unfortunately, he did not possess these abilities and he knew that it was probably for the best anyway.  

The Neuronal Forest lay scattered around most of the brain. It consisted of beautiful neuronal trees with small, thick neuronal trunks and long neuronal branches growing in and out of each other. Every time Hippo saved a piece of memory, the Neuronal Forest would change a little. He loved walking amongst his trees and spotting all the memories he had saved all over the place. When the owner of the brain wished to hold on to a thought, Hippo would save it in a place where he would be able to find it as soon as the owner needed it.  

Hippo lived in the Limbic Wilderness deep inside the centre of the brain together with Amygdala and other good friends. The forest was extra dense there, and one really needed to know one’s way around to avoid getting lost in the thicket.  

The long neuronal branches extended from the neuronal tree trunks into the Limbic Wilderness and many of them also reached as far as into the rest of the brain. Some of those branches even connected with the neuronal trees all the way into the Cerebral Cortex.  

The Cerebral Cortex was the bumpy outer part of the brain where Hippo enjoyed long walks as well. It was placed right beneath the skull and Hippo was very aware that it was an incredibly special and important part of the brain which separated the human brain from that of an animal.  

As soon as Hippo found a hill in the Cerebral Cortex where he could enjoy the landscape of mounds and slopes, he felt most vital. He knew that all these hills and passes meant that there were even more trees and coiled branches around – although not as dense as in the Limbic Wilderness.  

Yes, he was indeed immensely proud of the many trees in the forest.  

Had the Cerebral Cortex been completely flat, he would not have been able to store as many memories – and he would not have had his lovely view either. Naturally, some of the slopes were quite steep for just strolling up and down and small caves had appeared in other places where he was able to hide.  

Back in the day, when the owner of the brain was a child and playing hide and seek with his friends, Hippo had also had a lot of fun playing hide and seek in these caves. Life was so much simpler back then and the forest was full of those memories.  

Sadly, the owner now needed these recollections less often and Hippo began to wonder if he would ever be able to locate them again should the owner suddenly require any of his childhood memories.  

The memories that were not being used became more and more convoluted inside the coiled branches and the pathways leading up to these memories would start to overgrow. Nevertheless, if Hippo really set his mind to it, he would be able to find a way to retrieve those old memories.  

Not long ago the owner had bought himself a lovely fluffy dog. Hippo worked extremely hard in trying to find any old memory from the time when the owner was a child. The owner wished to be reminded of all the pranks that he and his old dog had engaged in together all those years ago. Hippo had really enjoyed this task because everything had been so peaceful in the brain while the owner had been daydreaming about all the carefree memories of his old beloved pet. For a tiny while Hippo had even appreciated the memory of the smell of wet dog which had suddenly overpowered the brain.  

Hippo was very appreciative when the brain was calm. This meant that everything was working as it should and together with all the other inhabitants inside the brain, he was able to perform all the tasks he had been born to carry out. It was in these more harmonious times that everybody had a better working relationship with the owner.  

Beneath the Limbic Wilderness was the Reptilian Shrubbery where many of the neuronal branches were much longer – up to a whole metre long. They could reach inside the brain stem which was placed right above the neck of the owner. From there the longer branches reached down the spine and into the body.  

The memories being stored inside the Reptilian Shrubbery were quite different.  

Here, most of the memories had been inherited – through millions of years – from the brains of the human ancestors.  

These branches helped the owner of the brain with all kinds of practicalities such as breathing by filling his lungs with air or to digest foods in his bowels. It was also these neuronal branches that made the owner run away from dangerous situations without having to think about it – or to prevent a potential accident. Hippo knew that the ones responsible in the Reptilian Shrubbery were working well together with Amygdala against any emerging risks or dangers.  

Everything just seemed to be running on autopilot for the owner of the brain.  

The reflexes and impulses hurtled through the forest without the owner even having to think about it – and Hippo was very conscious of the fact that he had to be very aware of all the activities going on down there. It made Hippo smile thinking about how Amygdala would always boast about his highspeed tempo. If the owner needed to react quickly, Amygdala would always point out that he would be faster than Hippo would be able to find a memory. Nevertheless, Hippo was extremely impressed by Amygdala’s superfast abilities. If the owner put his hand on a hot pan, Amygdala would jump up, and before Hippo or the Frontal Lobes were able to react, the owner had already pulled his hand away.  

The Wall-of-Thoughts and Focus on the Light Board

Hippo appreciated that his old friend was proud of this reaction time. He had to admit, however, that he was getting a bit anxious about Amygdala, or Mygge as Hippo called him, who was becoming quite ill-tempered lately. A lot more than usual. He pushed that thought aside and suddenly felt like paying the Frontal Lobes a visit.  

The Frontal Lobes lived in the anterior part of the brain just behind the owner's forehead. Their residence was like an impressive entrance hall, almost like a foyer, where the thoughts of the brain glided in and out.  

Here, new, and old memories, new and old whims, unusual ideas, thoughtful assumptions, sensory reflections, and daydreaming were lit up as live images on a giant dome-shaped wall which over the years had been named “the Wall-of-Thoughts.”  

Hippocampus enjoyed visiting the Frontal Lobes even though there were not as many neuronal trees as inside the Limbic Wilderness.  

There was, however, room for the big and pompous Carrousel-of-Thoughts. The impressive Carrousel-of-Thoughts stood in the middle of the entrance hall where one could sit in a soft chair watching the many thoughts and impressions flowing through the brain. They were thoughts coming from the outside, typically through the senses, and those coming from within came through the memories inside the Neuronal Forest.  

Every time the Carrousel-of-Thoughts had rotated once, the pictures on the Wall-of-Thoughts were replaced by new thoughts and the previous thoughts would be forgotten.  

Hippo loved sitting in the Frontal Lobes’ Carrousel-of-Thoughts helping to store all the thoughts that the owner of the brain would like to retain somewhere inside the Neuronal Forest. He would then be able to find them again as soon as he needed them. If there was one thing Hippo was proud of, it was his ability to organise all the many impulses and observations that constantly poured onto the Wall-of-Thoughts. The owner was only able to notice a fraction of these impressions on the Wall-of-Thoughts, as most just flowed unnoticed through the brain. Hippo had once read over the shoulder of the owner of the brain while he skimmed through an article about human brains and conscious thoughts whilst presiding in the yellow waiting room at the dentist.  

The owner had been more preoccupied with the particular “dentist smell,” almost like chemical cloves, than with the article itself. Even though his eyes had been looking at the words in the article, the owner had not read the article properly. Hippo had, however. The article stated that American brain researchers had concluded that ordinary people were only conscious of 5% of their thoughts. The remaining 95% just flowed through the brain without being noticed[i].  

Hippo was a bit unsure if the article in the magazine was correct, but he was quite content with the 5%. However, it annoyed him immensely that the owner didn’t pay more attention to what was going on inside himself.  

While skimming through the article the owner did not even spot what had been written about the 5%. He was still only thinking about the distinct “dentist smell” but Hippo had saved this information just in case the owner would be needing it one day. The fact that the owner of the brain did not notice his own thoughts was one thing, but that he did not even discover his emotions, which some of the thoughts created, astonished Hippo.  

If the inhabitants of the brain felt that he needed to be careful they kick-started all kinds of emotions for the owner to discover. Nevertheless, the owner ignored them and continued with whatever he was doing.  

Most of the day, the Carrousel-of-Thoughts just rotated without the owner of the brain thinking about what he wanted to save or retrieve. This meant that Hippo did not need to stay in the carrousel all the time and fortunately could look after his forest instead. It was the job of the Frontal Lobes to keep track of the Wall-of-Thoughts and the carrousel would rotate by itself if the owner did not set the pace.  

Even though the Wall-of-Thoughts was enormous it only had an extremely limited capacity. On top of that, the Frontal Lobes got easily confused. They lost track if too much arrived at the same time which the owner wanted to keep. Especially if Hippo could not keep up and got behind archiving thoughts inside the forest. It was important for the owner's memory that Hippo stayed in top shape all the time.  

The owner of the brain called the Wall-of-Thoughts his short-term memory and the memories in the Neuronal Forest his long-term memory. Hippo was actually quite pleased with these descriptions of the brain’s memory abilities.  

The Wall-of-Thoughts showed all the thoughts appearing in the brain and they could be maintained for a short period of time. When the carrousel had rotated once, the thoughts on the wall had disappeared in order to make room for new thoughts and impressions. In the Neuronal Forest, however, the memories were stored for years and could easily be retrieved even if they had not been used for a long time.  

Hippo, though, was far from happy with his own description as Hippocampus means seahorse in Latin. Many years ago, apparently several brain researchers had been of the conviction that he looked like a seahorse and then decided on the name. Hippo was actually rather offended by this. Not that there was anything wrong with seahorses – they were incredibly beautiful animals, he thought.  

Nonetheless, he did not think that he resembled one and he could not understand that the owner of the brain had agreed on calling him a seahorse. Still, Hippo was basically a very contented little resident inside the brain.  

Occasionally, Hippo jumped off the carrousel-of-Thoughts and collected impressions from The Wall-of-Thoughts which he thought the owner of the brain could need at a later date – exactly as he had done with the 5% of the conscious thoughts at the dentist.  

He stored them all around the forest in an ingenious system so that he could help the owner with creative inventions and ideas which the owner was not even aware he had access to.  

This system was called the subconscious and although it was not located in a specific place in the Neuronal Forest – but hidden all around – Hippo thought it was an excellent term for his system of “secret thoughts.” One day researchers would probably discover how it all correlated but so far Hippo was satisfied with the interpretation.  

The subconscious also contained a lot of other things which influenced the owner's personality and behaviours. These would include attitudes, identity images and preferences.  

For Hippo, it was easiest to use these secret thoughts and attitudes when the owner of the brain was not aware of what he was thinking. When the owner controlled The Wall-of-Thoughts himself, many other ideas were pushed aside, and the owner mostly only discovered Hippo's secret thoughts when he just let the thoughts flow.

The best times to post ideas onto the Wall-of-Thoughts were when the owner was relaxing and not doing anything in particular. This would be if he zoned out occasionally or was having a shower. The nights were also good for posting thoughts and previously Hippo had had an effective and successful collaboration with the owner. Late at night Hippo would post ideas onto the Wall-of-Thoughts and the owner of the brain would discover them the next morning just before getting out of bed.  

Back in the day, the owner would sometimes wake up filled with euphoria because he had had a brilliant idea. He would then quickly find pen and paper and write it all down.  

Lately, however, the owner had begun looking at his mobile phone as soon as his alarm clock had sounded. He did not notice all the good ideas that Hippo had prepared for him during the night. In fact, Hippo had completely stopped lighting up ideas on the Wall-of-Thoughts in the late hours of the night because it had turned out to be of no avail whatsoever.  

Hippo got extremely disappointed when it dawned on him that the owner of the brain was no longer interested in the early morning ideas.  

No, he certainly was not happy with this development at all, and it seemed that the owner was becoming more and more absent-minded.  

When the owner finally became aware of the thoughts on the Wall-of-Thoughts, Hippo quickly had to find his seat on the carrousel. That way he could obtain memories for the thought process and store the new thought constructions in his cunning memory system.  

Hippo was instantly made aware if the owner started thinking for himself. With lightning speed, Hippo was back on the Carrousel-of-Thoughts ready for an efficient recollection service.  

The owner was able to slow down the Carrousel-of-Thoughts and freeze an image if he discovered something exciting on the Wall-of-Thoughts. Hippo would then help him archive this memory somewhere in the forest.  

Sometimes it could be really hard for the owner to stop the carrousel. This usually happened if he was thinking too many thoughts simultaneously. Especially thoughts of concern could cause the carrousel to keep rotating without the owner being able to control it.  

Some of Hippo's absolute favourite moments were when the owner managed to stop the carrousel and concentrate on something exciting.  

It was also possible for the owner to get the carrousel to reverse if he realised that he needed a thought they had just missed. The carrousel could only reverse by one rotation. If the thought materialized further back than this one rotation – or if the owner could not reverse the carrousel far enough – then the thought had been lost and could not be recreated.  

Luckily, Hippo had a little trick up his sleeve: he was able to stick the shadow of a thought onto the back of The Wall-of-Thoughts. If the same thought reappeared later, the owner would discover it because it matched the shadow, and he was then still able to save this thought.  

The owner of the brain frequently had to concentrate quite hard. This had happened as a pupil at school and now working on very influential assignments. When concentration was needed, the owner slowed down the carrousel in order to gather thoughts on one topic. He would then light a large light board which was situated on the floor right in front of The Wall-of-Thoughts. The more intensely he focused, the bigger the Light Board became. At deep concentration, the Light Board was covering for a larger part of the Wall-of-Thoughts, and it helped the owner shut off from all other impressions. This meant that he was able to maintain his focus.  

With a large light board, Hippo was hard at work, and he ran back and forth on the paths alongside the neuronal trees to find memories for the thoughts of the owner. Hippo loved it and although the owner gradually had more and more difficulty stopping the carrousel and keeping the Light Board switched on, Hippo was more than ready when he finally succeeded. He felt unbelievably valuable, and he could see how the forest flourished when it came to arranging, saving, and creating space for the results of the immersion work.  

Hippo was very well aware how important all that exercise in the Neuronal Forest was to him. He needed his muscle mass to be able to – at lightning speed – take all the shortcuts along the fastest paths to the thought depots. It made the owner of the brain exceptionally fast with an extremely well-developed and razor-sharp memory.  

Yes, they had a good collaboration indeed, Hippo thought, blushing with pride.  

The owner called the Light Board “the working memory”. When he had to work on something specific, he drew thoughts from both his short-term memory and his long-term memory putting them onto the Light Board. He was then able to work on them in deep concentration – typically in close collaboration with the Frontal Lobes.  

When the owner of the brain went into a deep state of concentration, Hippo often had to find pathways in the Neuronal Forest that he had not visited for a long time. Sometimes there were pathways that he was only able to access if the owner wanted to cross them himself. The owner was able to enlighten routes through the forest where Hippo could find special memories that he could post onto the Light Board.  

Without the owner, Hippo would not have access to these areas, and he was actually fine with that. Ultimately it was the owner's brain and thus the owner himself who had the overall responsibility for the brain's content and for its functions.  

Cogni Tea inside the Carrousel-of-Thoughts

“Good morning, Mr Hippocampus,” said the Frontal Lobes as soon as they saw him.  

Hippo was incredibly pleased with their polite manner.  

“Would you care for a strong cup of cogni tea?” they asked. They had just got out of bed because the frontal lobes do sleep at night.  

“Yes please. Many thanks,” Hippo nodded and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs in the carrousel in order to watch the thoughts drifting past the Wall-of-Thoughts.  

Hippo enjoyed the mornings before the owner woke up completely and before the cogni tea had been drunk. Thoughts and senses just flowed silently without anyone relating to them.  

It was certainly not boring – just peaceful. Sometimes a little remnant of a dream popped up and if the owner noticed the small dream fragment, he could become curious and slow down the carrousel trying to catch the rest of the dream. This would now happen a lot less frequently, though.

The Frontal Lobes were very adept in constructing large and advanced thoughts. These thoughts particularly began to unfold when the owner was studying. Back then, the owner had to learn how to handle nuanced theories and then sharp-wittingly connect them with everyday life and other demanding methods and analysis models. The Frontal Lobes adored abstract knowledge and they were experts in instructing all the inhabitants of the brain to support this complicated practice professionally.  

As the Frontal Lobes were now needed more often, they learned how to brew an ever-stronger cogni tea.  

Everyone who drank the cogni tea made them think cognitively.  

Hippo knew that when people think cognitively, they think about what they think, what they do, and how they feel. They may also find themselves thinking about why they think, act, and feel the way they do. Some people sometimes become very scared of harmless things such as giving a speech or just uttering “no!”. The cogni tea will, however, be able to give them the courage needed. People are then capable of facing their fears and to find out if the situation is as dangerous as they think.  

Hippo enjoyed drinking a strong cogni tea because he loved to help structuring the big thoughts and save the experience that had materialised. The owner of the brain and the Frontal Lobes had a good working relationship. The stronger the cogni tea the better the owner could concentrate controlling the Carrousel-of-Thoughts and zooming in on the Light Board.  

When things would erupt, Hippo would run back and forth at high speed between the Wall-of-Thoughts and the memories in the Neuronal Forest trying to provide complete and half-finished reflections. The Frontal Lobes would painstakingly mix them with challenging theories, and they would compose ground-breaking strategies and nuanced plans together with the owner. Hippo knew that this kept him in shape. He tensed his thigh muscles and noticed, much to his annoyance, that they felt a bit weaker than normal.  

During the owner's studies, Hippo enjoyed looking at the many new forest pathways and routes developing between the neuronal trees. Sadly, it was at the expense of some of the childhood pathways, which disappeared in entangled neuronal branches, but they had to accept it. “You cannot have it all.”  

The Frontal Lobes were conscious of the thoughts being posted on the Wall-of-Thoughts and what happened to them. They were very thorough with their work and specialists in thinking abstractly and rationally. Education was also one of their subject areas and they guided, with their usual accuracy, the owner in his behaviour among people and to stay popular within the family, his group of friends and among his colleagues.  

During the night, however, the Frontal Lobes would be asleep. This meant that there would be no cogni tea available and that the Wall-of-Thoughts had been given a free hand. Hippo would spend the nights tidying up after a day's many impressions. He arranged and organised the memories and feelings which the owner had received during the day. Hippo then put everything in order alongside the pathways of the forest thus making it easier to find the memories at a later stage.  

Hippo knew that his night-time clearance work was a messy affair for the owner as he generally was not able to understand his own nightly thoughts – if he was able to remember any of them at all. The owner called some of these clearance thoughts “dreams.” A particularly important task during the night was to throw away all the thoughts that the owner would not be needing again.  

The clearance work was also Hippo’s task, and he was well aware of the consequences if he had not been meticulous enough. A lot of loose thought remnants and snippets of images would be stuck on the wall making it difficult for the owner to think clearly in the morning.  

The owner's sleep was paramount for Hippo to be able to perform his duties and clearances during the night. Even a little nap in the middle of the day could help if the Wall-of-Thoughts had been terribly busy.  

Chronological Memories, Tempo Spheres and Flow

Although the Frontal Lobes were extremely competent at organising and directing the cognitive and strategic thinking in the brain, they also had their limitations. One of them was in failing to be able to archive any gains of the thoughts which were flowing through the brain. They were not able to evaluate exactly what to discard or what to save. This was where their abilities came to an end – even though the cogni tea would be extraordinarily strong.  

Hippocampus was the expert in the brain when it came to prioritising and saving memories and making sure that it made sense to the owner – and more importantly – that they could be found again. Hippo was also able to structure experiences and thoughts in chronological order giving the owner of the brain a sense of time.  

Even though it was difficult placing the thoughts in a perfect chronological order, there was, however, some control over the big image of the order of experiences. Had it not been for Hippo, the owner would not be able to remember when something had happened, nor would he be able to remember anything that he had experienced just a few minutes beforehand either[ii].  

Hippo collaborated with several residents in the brain in order to make the extensive time functions work optimally. It was a collaboration that meant a lot to the owner – without the owner having to think too much about it.  

The perception of time and whether time felt fast-moving or slow-moving was organised through a large Thought-Projector which lit up all thoughts onto the Wall-of-Thoughts. Experiences, senses, and all other images entering the brain were captured and engulfed by a searchlight which lit up thought-images on the wall.  

Just before the images would hit the Wall-of-Thoughts, they would pass through a tube containing small spheres giving the owner the sense of fast-moving and slow-moving time. The tempo spheres, as they were called, moved in step with the owner's experiences. They led the thought-images through the tube and the more cluttered the spheres were, the slower the time felt for the owner. When the spheres, in turn, were in a straight line the projector’s beam of light would penetrate them and thereby give the owner the feeling that time was flying by.  

The small spheres tended to get cluttered when the owner dealt with something boring. This would explain why time felt like moving at a snail’s pace when he was queuing at the supermarket. If, however, the spheres were formed in a perfect line the owner would get the feeling that an evening with his best friends – telling lots of amusing stories – would simply fly by[iii].  

The Light Board in front of the Wall-of-Thoughts was also lit up by the tempo spheres and when the owner was working on something really exciting, he forgot all about time and disappeared into an almost intoxicating state of “flow”. He would even forget all about his new expensive watch – his pride and joy.  

Yes, Hippo really appreciated the cooperation with the other residents of the brain. Especially with regards to the owner's perception of time and memory. He felt like a significant and indispensable forester inside the Neuronal Forest. It was, nonetheless, quite demanding to keep track of both memory and time. He needed peace and quiet to tidy up every night and to deliver a sensible job to the owner.  

Hippo was not able to service the thought processes of the Frontal Lobes and tidy up the day’s thoughts as well. This was exactly why the nights were so wonderful for the owner's memory: when the owner and the Frontal Lobes slept tightly, Hippo could organise his beloved forest.  

Recently, however, much had changed in the brain. The Frontal Lobes had begun waking up in the middle of the night and they were creating strange thoughts that made no sense whatsoever. Instead, these nightly whims left the owner extremely worried. To begin with, Hippo tried to help both the Frontal Lobes and to tidy up the memories of the forest simultaneously. After a while, though, he had to give up. Often, frustrated and hurt, he would return to his house staying there until the brain had somewhat calmed down again.  

Whilst Hippo sat in the Carrousel-of-Thoughts enjoying the spicy taste of his steaming hot morning cogni tea, the Frontal Lobes began waking up and focusing on the tasks ahead. This way they would be able to get the owner up and running. Hippo found some memories which he thought the owner would be happy to see after a good night's sleep. However, these good and sleepful nights had gradually become increasingly rare.  

It was typically around this time that Amygdala began preparing for the day ahead. He preferred sleeping a bit longer than Hippo and although Hippo was very fond of his friend, he enjoyed the peaceful mornings before Mygge emerged with anxiety or anger over silly morning trivialities.  

In recent weeks, chronic anxiety had become commonplace during the night. Hippo did not know why but Mygge had begun entertaining the whole brain with his insinuations about awful things and about what could go wrong.  

Mygge was able to keep the poor Frontal Lobes awake all night and they were so polite that it would not occur to them asking him to calm down. Eventually, the Frontal Lobes would become so intimidated by all the stories themselves that they would wake up the owner. Chaos would now begin to ensue – in the middle of the night to boot!  

After such nights, the brain began a new day full of chaotic thoughts and Hippo often felt sorry for the owner in the morning.  

Even during the owner’s deep sleep – where Hippo's incredibly significant clear-up work would take place – were ruined by Mygge's mess. Hippo knew that over time it would be harmful for the brain and for the owner if it continued. To begin the day with a crowded Wall-of-Thoughts was in no way healthy for the owner.  

During this night, however, it had been peaceful, and Hippo had even managed to take a nap in the last hours of the night before heading up to the Frontal Lobes. Just like in the good old days. Oh, how he enjoyed this morning!  

Again, Hippo thought about how he had previously seen the owner get his best ideas in the mornings just a few minutes before getting out of bed. Hippo had always tried planting inspirational images from the night's work onto the Wall-of-Thoughts. He thought the owner could use them as an important piece to solve a difficult problem or perhaps to get a bright idea.  

When Mygge was active, however, and the Frontal Lobes presented quirky and useless ideas during the night, Hippo's inspiration would not fit on the Wall-of-Thoughts. Hippo's ideas were often different from the ones the Frontal Lobes would come up with through their rationales and analysis. It was basically only if the brain was peaceful that the Frontal Lobes were open to new ways of thinking.  

Hippo found it a bit limiting if all the new worldviews and solutions were created solely by the logical system of the Frontal Lobes. He believed that a new and completely different way of looking at a subject often gave even better ideas than the first result that had emerged. He sighed and pondered that, when pressed, the Frontal Lobes tended to see the world as black and white and would be overlooking all nuances.  

However, Hippo was now sitting in the Carrousel-of-Thoughts with his cogni tea, waiting full of excitement for the owner to discover the well-meaning morning inputs that he had lit up on the Wall-of-Thoughts. The owner would have to discover these images before waking up. Otherwise, as soon as the owner had woken up completely, they would be replaced by new images and the carrousel would begin to rotate faster.  

“What a peaceful morning,” Amygdala suddenly declared. “There must be something wrong!” Mygge had appeared without Hippo noticing.

“Good morning, my old friend” said Hippo and sighed quietly as Mygge jumped up on the Carrousel-of-Thoughts.  

At that moment, Hippo's morning inspiration had disappeared from the Wall-of-Thoughts and the day’s unrest took off. The Frontal Lobes quickly jumped on the bandwagon-of-concern. They woke up the owner completely and Hippo reluctantly began to retrieve anxious memories.  

Mygge was also given a cup of cogni tea, and he was sceptical as always. “This cogni tea is making me lethargic and slow,” he complained.  

Hippo smiled to himself. Mygge was right in a way because if he could not react quickly, he could not help the owner pull his hand away from a hot stove or save him from other dangerous situations. Hippo thought to himself whilst smiling pensively that Mygge’s ancestors must have had many glory days when they had to save their owners from hungry saber-toothed tigers.  

“But at least the cogni tea is not too strong at the moment,” Mygge commented dryly.  

“Excuse us, Mr Amygdala?” asked the Frontal Lobes simultaneously and horrified. “Is the cogni tea not strong?”  

They all tasted the tea thoroughly and had to agree with Mygge. It really did not taste as strong as usual.  

“It has been like this for a while,” Mygge continued. “The cogni tea is getting weaker and weaker and I am actually rather enjoying it.” He laughed as he jumped off the carrousel and ran into the forest.  

“Very strange!” Hippo thought.