‘If you use your Mind to study Reality, you won’t understand either your Mind or Reality’ quipped the famously laconic Bodhidharman, the first Patriarch of Zen.
I don’t know what Mind is. But I do know this. Every time I say: ‘Gotcha!’, every time I use Mind to hold forth on the Nature of Mind, I am back in my circular whirl.
Very wise-men have been trying to get a handle on this thing called ‘Mind’ for a few millennia and have gotten nowhere.
Divine origin? The center of cognition, emotion and volition? The firing of synapse on brain tissue?
But this ‘Mind’ of mine [which of course I know exists] keeps giving me the slip. And to further confuse matters, folks who Know say that Mind is also the depository of ‘Thought’, the dodgy character we just met.
I can’t see it, hear it, smell it, taste it, touch it. And yet, darn it all, it feels awfully real to me. This ghost behind my nose and between my ears.
And anything I pick and label as ‘Mind’ using this Mind of mine cannot be Mind, can be anything but Mind.
So. ‘What is ‘Mind’? As I said, that’s about where the wise-men left it.