Published: 12.01.2026
I extended today’s session by another minute, continuing with the plan of adding one minute each day until I eventually reach 60 minutes. Something important became clear to me during this session: there is something beyond the mind. The mind is the thing that generates thoughts, but there is also something that seems to contain the mind itself. I noticed this when I entered brief states of no-mind. There were moments when no thoughts were present at all, and yet the fact that I was alive and aware meant that something still existed. These no-mind states are fragile and fleeting, but they exist. The qualities of these moments are a sense of peace, stillness, and heightened awareness. At the same time, they are delicate. The mind is extremely sensitive to noticing problems. While I was in a no-mind state, it noticed tension somewhere in the body. That tension became a “problem,” which triggered a thought, and that one thought spiraled into many.
The mind moves incredibly fast, leaping from one thought to the next. I think our neural architecture stores and organises information based on the sensory inputs, and these stored impressions, in turn, influence what the next thought will be. Another pattern became obvious today. The moment I recognised that I was in a no-mind state, that recognition itself became a thought. And that single thought was enough to unravel the stillness and start a new chain of mental activity. This makes me think that the mind has two strong tendencies. One is to identify problems. The other is to notice states it finds unusual or noteworthy. In this case, it found the stillness itself noteworthy and demanded attention. Either way, the result is the same. The mind pulls focus back into thinking. Regardless of what triggers the first thought, a large portion of the thoughts that follow for me tend to be about the future (planning, projecting, preparing). The mind seems to use these chains of thought to motivate action toward some imagined future state. But beyond the mind, there is something else. The very fact that I exist - even without engaging the mind - means something remains. You could call it consciousness, awareness, energy or being. The label matters less than the recognition that it exists at all. That state is marked by deep stillness, peace, and alertness. But even within it lies the seed of the mind’s return. The mind quickly finds something to engage with, however small, and that spark sets off a cascade of thoughts - carrying you away once again from that still, silent presence. This also reframes how I think about distraction. Whenever I notice that my thoughts no longer reflect the intention I chose for that moment, I can gently bring attention back from those thoughts to the present. Repeating this over time should naturally train the mind to remain anchored in the present more often. In a sense, meditation is simply this practice. It is the act of returning the mind to the present moment, again and again. And the present moment can take many forms. It might be the intention to meditate, or it might be the intention to fully attend to whatever I am doing right now.