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One realization: my mind needs to be scrubbed — like the floor of a grubby apartment. Shit builds up — every day shit; little anxieties, habits of thought that are detrimental to the proper conduct of life. I’ve been thinking about my own Mind a lot lately: I feel like I have to win it back from technology addiction; from the algorithms that lead it, like a farm animal, by the nose.
Care of mind takes every moment of one’s day. Our sleep and dreams are as vital to the flourishing of our mind as our waking thought-practices; perhaps more important. Our mind is really compost — during our dreams, we turn over the compost pile. Or should.
I’m being careful not to use the word ‘mindfulness’ here — especially in a positive sense. ‘Mindfulness’ has become too corporate: which is to say: too easy; too much caught up in the big business of self-help. I don’t see much point in practicing mindfulness if you have the brain of a fool. Why quiet and rest your mind, only to have it go back to doing something futile and nihilistic?
In order to be mindful, we have to tell the truth about mind — we are deranged, fragmented, sleepless, unhappy, confused; we’ve, by and large, been turned into machines that buy Amazon products and absorb Facebook advertising. Unless we’re mindful of this, we’re not really mindful, just mindless.
Genuine spirituality — spirit-fullness — is hard work; total work. The difference between trendy mindfulness and authentic mind-awareness is the difference between a fad diet and a lifetime of eating real, local, seasonal food.
