The short version: we exist on a regularly rotating planet with a single fixed light (and heat) source. We had to learn to live with it in order to survive.
The detailed explanation: Life on Earth evolved on a rotating sphere orbiting a star, and organisms – from the earliest cyanobacteria and plants to mankind – have to cope with the daily variation of light and temperature from day to night. At the simplest level, this is an anticipation of dawn to allow an organism to protect its DNA from damaging UV light. In eukaryotic organisms, this daily cycle is reflected in the nucleus of almost every cell. An oscillating pattern of protein production and disintegration maintains a roughly 24 hour pulse – the ticking of a molecular clock. In human beings and other diurnal species, as day approaches proteins are created to warm us and lower the threshold for arousal; to wake us up and to get us ready for food and activity. The proteins produced at night provide a cooler, although still physiologically active, sleep. And then the cycle begins again.
In 1971 a professor at the California Institute of Technology discovered that a single gene (and a specific piece of DNA) was responsible for managing the cycle, the first time that behaviour (in addition to physical characteristics) had been linked to a gene. As DNA sequencing capabilities advanced, this gene - called PER (for period) - and the PER protein it specified, could be credited as the clock mechanism of living organisms, existing in almost all cells. What is more, the beat of these myriad cell clocks is kept in alignment by controlled pulses from a group of neurons in a tiny region of the brain called the SCN situated close to the optic nerve fibres.
Over several hours, starting in the early hours of the morning, the PER protein is synthesised and begins to accumulate in cytoplasm. As its concentration increases, it starts to be transported into the nucleus, peaking in the middle of the night. In the nucleus it binds and deactivates its own transcriptional factors, stopping production of its own mRNA, and turning off further production. Over the next few hours, the PER protein in the nucleus is degraded and removed, until the mRNA starts to be exported again to ramp up PER production for another day.
Over several hours, starting in the early hours of the morning, the PER protein is synthesised and begins to accumulate in cytoplasm. As its concentration increases, it starts to be transported into the nucleus, peaking in the middle of the night. In the nucleus it binds and deactivates its own transcriptional factors, stopping production of its own mRNA, and turning off further production. Over the next few hours, the PER protein in the nucleus is degraded and removed, until the mRNA starts to be exported again to ramp up PER production for another day.
And there is more. Over the last forty-five years, research on circadian systems in biology has opened a window on the mechanisms of life and on our deep connection to the rhythms of our planet home. The 2017 Nobel prize recognized early insights into the pattern of protein production and destruction that provides one of the key self-regulating feedback loops. Modern tools in molecular biology have identified more of the molecules involved in the complex system of checks and balances that measure out the hours of the day and the seasons of the year. New research is starting to reveal the chemistry – the reactions, molecular dynamics, competitive binding and diffusion – that determines the intricate behaviour of biorhythms.
The importance of 'being at one with nature' is so much more than a cosy motherhood statement. Short-term changes (like long-distance jet travel) can result in temporary aberrations in the mechanism - we know it as jet lag - which we soon recover from. Longer term changes (like working night-shifts or in a permanently darkened environment) can result in more severe behavioural issues. In addition, links are emerging between the circadian system and disease in human beings. People in whom the circadian clock is running incorrectly (too slow, too fast) or is running correctly but is set to the wrong time may be prone to both physical and mental illnesses from cardiovascular disease and SAD (seasonal affective disorder) to bi-polar syndrome and even schizophrenia. Research in this area is gathering momentum as the index of mental illness in 21st century society appears to be rising steadily. But I don't want to get too far into the negative implications of malfunctioning circadian clocks. Greet every sunrise. 🌞
However, if you are feeling a little out of sorts, maybe in the grip of an emotion or feeling or tendency you can't quite give a name to, here's a checklist that might help (stolen from a FB post):
Adronitis: frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone
Altschmerz: weariness with the same old issues that have been troubling you for years
Ellipsism: a sadness that you'll never be able to know how history will turn out
Jouska: a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head
Liberosis: the desire to care less about things
Mauerbauertraurigkelt: the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends
Monachopsis: the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place
Nodus Tollens: the realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore
Onism: the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time
Rubatosis: the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat
Vellichor: the strange wistfulness of used bookshops
I hope some of that helps! I leave you with this latest poetry from the imaginarium. It may be on theme, but then again, perhaps not.
The starting point, obviously enough, was clocks and natural cycles; and then somehow I found myself thinking about the common cuckoo, unnatural behaviour and the strangest (and most shocking) thing anyone has ever said to me...
Cuckoo
In May she arrives on time,
In May she arrives on time,
bubbling harbinger of change,
announcing unmistakeably
that Spring is here again,
meadows will soon bloom,
beech woods surely turn green
and little eggs get savaged.
Bittersweet, this clocking
of her call, unpleasing
to the married ear according
to some ancient lore.
Through June she stays,
lustful eye unsheathing,
hawkish mimicry deceiving
to her driven end. Whose bed
is this? Whose affection
is she weaving?
Whose nest is she bereaving?
By July she's changed her tune,
is starting to get flighty.
Others can fend for and raise
her interloping brood.
On hot summer nights
she sings her song of freedom
rejoicing that her offspring
have usurped and thrived.
She's only sticking round
until the fun's worn off.
By August she's gone.
Thanks for reading. Remember those sunrises, S ;-)
44 comments:
That's such a tease! What was the strange and shocking thing?
Love the check list which helps answer, and relates to, things on my mind. Pretty cool poem too. Cheers
A lot to take in Steve, redeemed by the poem which I liked very much. I have only in the past couple of days been thinking that I have not heard the call of a cuckoo for many years despite living close to a wood... in Warwickshire we heard them all the time perhaps they don't come this far north. I don't think my grandchildren have ever heard one. I take it you were told the fun had stopped .. and not someone had laid a changeling baby bird in your nest.
I liked the short version - guess I've got a dose of liberosis!
A brilliant scientific explanation of the the earth, rotation, daylight, nightlife, temperature. My, it is full of science how everything clicks with time, including the atmosphere and so forth. Time is our lifeline, we live by it, every second, every minute, every hour, working with time day and night even with the birds singing waking us up to say its early morning, time to get up sleepy heads, it's time to crack on with the day! Oh, the cuckoo clock, comes back to mind when I have only heard it in a horror movie or late but had the pleasure of school trips and hearing the birds. Your poem is beautifully addressed Steve. I enjoyed reading every word with an open mind, heart and soul!
Now I feel educated! (LOL) That is an intense post, right through to the powerful poem.
That's a powerhouse of a blog. Did you feel that you short-changed us last week? Very interesting when I got my head around it. I know nothing about cuckoos but you sound as though you do - interesting poem.
Fascinating!
The cuckoo queen still haunts the green.
What a fascinating read. I had to go through it twice - the implications are immense. I love the advice to greet every sunrise.
Intriguing facts about molecular clocks. Isn't life intricately wonderful? It's too easy to lose sight of that but your blog brings it all into focus. Your cuckoo poem is a complex thing. Great read, thanks.
I felt I needed something pitched between the short and the detailed version; but isn't it a curious fact that our minds (mine at least) 'glaze over' when faced with a description of how our biorhythms work? I loved the interesting checklist and the enigmatic Cuckoo poem.
Fantastic and informative blogging; the complicated made understandable. (You do a better job than wiki for sure.) Are you going to let on what terrible thing was said? regardless, the poem is great.
This read like a Horizon script (and that's a compliment btw). Fascinating stuff Steve. As for cuckoos, I wouldn't know. I'm not sure I've ever heard one. Great poem though. 👏
Ha ha - all we ever needed to know about our circadian clocks. Very well written, Steve. I loved the list of strange emotions as well and now can't decide whether I've got monachopsis or nodus tollens :D I loved your Cuckoo too. There's some emotion invested in that poem.
Wow, aren't we complicated. Great blog and poem.
So if our clocks and consequently our biorhythms get out of sync is it chemical or behavioural issues that are responsible? I'm confused. I did enjoy the list of strange emotions though, and thought your Cuckoo poem was very well done.
It's ironic that I'm reading this particular blog in the middle of the night because I can't sleep. Does that mean my body clock is wonky? Or is it perhaps a case pf late-night Altschmerz? As for cuckoos, probably the only ones I've ever heard have been in clocks!
Cuckoos on the decline big time, numbers halved since the millennium apparently. I've also not heard one in years.
Intense but instructive read. Thank you Steve. I liked the elusive emotions checklist - Vellichor is a permanent state with me as you know. Cracking cuckoo poem too.
Interesting topic. Some of the detail went over my head but the gist was clear and I love the advice to "greet every sunrise". Your clever Cuckoo poem didn't pull any punches :)
In defence of the cuckoo, this 'folk' song: "Oh the cuckoo is a pretty bird/ She warbles as she flies/ She brings us glad tidings/ And she tells us no lies." I've heard it performed by everyone from Bob Dylan to Kristin Hersch but don't know its origin.
That's me - Nodus Tollens (LOL) - thanks for giving a name to it. I think your Cuckoo poem is biting and brilliant. Well done. Also, thanks for the top tip. I will try and get up with the sun each day. 🌞
A great read, Steve. Isn't 'life' amazing. For those of us who know you well, your Cuckoo poem works on many levels. It's very well done.
Just read this through a couple of times and thanks for the detailed 'under-the-covers' analysis. It's food for thought as we go into lockdown yet again - Melbourne's 6th time now - that we should take the opportunity to do things a bit differently, a bit more naturally. I don't know much about cuckoos except they have a bad reputation which your well-constructed poem (I like the cyclical imagery) does nothing to dispel. Thanks for the blogs, keep them coming.
That we have biorhythms and why we have them ought to be obvious to all (as your short version so pithily puts it), but the detailed explanation of how it all works is amazing. Thanks for the digest. Great cuckoo poem too. 👍
Are cuckoos bad? 😯
What a fascinating read. And there's lots of good info out there on the net about how to stay synchronised. Your poem is really well done, too.
Food for thought Steve. It got me wondering how and why cuckoos became what they are, the chavs of the woods - laying their eggs in other birds' nests, having seemingly no maternal instincts etc etc. Intriguing, don't you think?
That's a lot of content. I had to swap out of speed-read mode. Still, all fascinating stuff; as was the list of hard-to-name emotions. I get rubatosis sometimes in the night. As for your poem, really nicely worked. Bad bird!
But what was the thing, Steve?
Great read, Steve, from start to finish. Educational and entertaining, provocative and inspiring.
Sound!
Really interesting and extremely well written. I love the poem as well.
Wow. A lot to take in there. One of the things tat intrigues me most is the possible connection between behaviour that disregards 'natural' cycles and mental health issues. Also I recognise Jouska as a tendency I have. All fascinating, Steve, and a powerful and enigmatic poem to finish.
I could never see the attraction of cuckoos - thoroughly bad birds. I suppose they got to feature in clocks because of their distinctive call, which everybody knows but hardly anyone has ever heard nowadays. Shame on them.
Tremendous post, really fascinating. We don't understand ourselves nearly well enough and what literally makes us tick. I also enjoyed that strange list of hard-to-name emotions and your cleverly worked Cuckoo poem. Bravo. 👏
I actually got up with the sunrise this morning. It is a great feeling to have a whole day stretching ahead. I loved the cuckoo poem for its dark undertow. Well done Steve, another thoroughly engaging blog.
I wonder why cuckoo clocks were ever invented. Bizarre. I like that your poem shows the bird in its true colours (so to speak). Very nicely done.
Wow Steve, what a fascinating fact-filled blog. So that's how we work (LOL). I liked your list of unusual emotions and enjoyed your incisive Cuckoo poem. It did occur to me to wonder afterwards if perhaps cuckoos are afflicted by mauerbauertraurigkelt?
Fascinating reading - a great blog. 👏
We don't like cuckoos, do we? I love the poem though. 👍
I have to admit to a sneaking admiration for the badass cuckoo. Thanks for a fascinating blog and poem, also the list of moods. I recognise several.
Such a well-written account of our complex workings, in terms everyone can understand. Thank you. I liked your poem about the Cuckoo too.
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