The mind is a strange thing that I don’t understand. The way it works is sort of like a psychotherapist, who always assumes one seeking counsel must need help. But instead of a diagnosis, our mind offers us credible answers to any question we examine.

Thing is, it doesn’t matter if the answers are real or not.

Our brain on other hand, seems relatively simple to understand. From the moment we are born it constantly processes every sound and sight, all sensations we perceive; it interprets the information, stores it, and tells our body when to react — all while monitoring and controlling our major biological functions like the beating of our heart, our breathing, and limb movements. It is a computer unmatched in its complexity and capabilities, and we may never really know how it works, but its function seems straightforward.

Despite my ignorance of their true nature, I’m sure the brain and mind are not the same things. Clearly they are close-coupled. I think of their relationship like library and reader. When the mind wants to contemplate, it checks out a book of memories; and, it is the ultimate interpreter.

The mind is really terrible at interpretation — at least mine is. I don’t trust it. That’s why for the last few years I’ve found comfort in this project and attempted disconnecting as much as possible from the outside world. The thought process and isolation have given me the opportunity to better understand how my mind works, and why it often makes such assumptions and judgments.

But I’m not attempting improvement: better judgment is still judgment. Instead, the distillation that amplifies this project’s relationship to me is a process of self-criticism I use to reconsider the purpose of all the assumption and judgment with which throughout my lifetime my mind has often mislead me:

The endless stream of thinking inside my head is now just a distraction from living. Meditation helps and analysis seems useful, but there is obviously no real solution. Yet, over the years I’ve learned to be wrong so often sometimes I think it might be easier to simply take the opposite of my mind’s direction — so I even question the meager efforts I’ve made.