if we look for the body of mind, we find only the clothes that mind wears, a fabric woven by the interplay of senses, thoughts, images, and cognitive faculties. As weaver mind stands apart from all this, it has no place, no shape, no form.
If mind is unknowable, how can we call it into question?
Mind’s stories seem to confirm the existence of mind as a storyteller.
Mind readily reports on its own activity, the senses recognize themselves in the images they generate, and consciousness cognizes its own features in the meaningful structures it imposes.
But none of this takes us outside the stream of stories.
Tarthang Tulku Rinpoche
Milking the Painted Cow