Day Two Hundred and Eighty five

My mind mostly plays ping-pong, this thought here, bumps into that thought there and reflects upon it, which reflects back, until it runs out of energy and starts a new game. My mind seems like a foolish master, always playing this way, and paying attention rarely. It does not know concentration very well, and when it does, it shrinks back to hide until the concentration is gone.

My body is always honest, never playing a game. Why would that be so? Touching the stone, the general state of energy, the sense of tightness or looseness here and there are simply what they are, and as thought diminishes in concentration, the body becomes clearer and clearer.

Perhaps thoughts too are quite honest, and it is only the tendency to play a game with them that causes a problem. The mind is a funny place, always restless and seeking rest at the same time.