If you met your Mind, would you recognize it? (The Bingo-Zingo Theory)

'Meeting of the minds' is a phrase that intrigues me to think: is there a mind to meet?  Humans refer to mind as something intangible, a mysterious rider within us, but what if it is a liminal being?  Maybe I've seen it without realizing it?  Perhaps it became insulted that I haven't acknowledged it before, and didn't say, hey, what's up, finally, we're meeting, great!  "You want coffee, or some particular type of mind-juice?"  Does it want and can it get a drink sometime and have some laughs?  Should I be paying more attention to it as a separate entity?  Can it become upset with me?  Does it have friends it complains to about me?  Do they meet on a regular basis?  Is it a little avatar in my body somewhere, or some curious extraterrestrial appendage?  Is part of me, or it's own being?  Does my mind experience human emotions, lonely, happy, sad, angry?  Maybe when I experience certain emotions, I'm mirroring them from the ones my mind is having toward me?  Is mind a concept, a religion, a Hollywood scriptwriter's invention?  Can someone direct me to the mind center for some answers?

I keep imagining a squishy thing in the shape of a moist, rich cupcake (triple chocolate) in a red velvety, loungy bathrobe, laughing it's ass off at everything I'm doing.  What a lucky formless squish-ball!  And I'm its inseparable workhorse, its dog.  Ok, I admit it, I'm jealous of my mind's freedom of control.  It commands me in a series of rigidly dominant, and often non-linear string of endlessly intense jabber, and it mostly won't take no for an answer.  It's fooled, however, by distraction.  And in this I've been practicing to become a master.  But am I fooling myself, or my mind?  

I've tried everything from therapy to traveling around the world, dating, swimming for miles, only to find my mind a constant companion without ever meeting the dude.  Again, I'm not sure I'd recognize it.  What the little corpuscle do while I'm sleeping.  It could be refueling with some wretched crew in lascivious places, trying to steal my liver or mess with my Facebook timeline to make me an organ donor.  

Why such negative suspicion Sheldon? (Sheldon is my nick name since about 1989, the year the earth stood still for 43 seconds and my mind delivered to me this funny nick name; fyi: 43 seconds being the average time it takes to do many of life's essential things).  The time that humans are occupied with daily life functions (43 seconds), is when the mind worms its way to visit alternative existence planes to cozy up with other sub-terrestrial bio-squishy beings, and demand I stop everything to focus on yet a new tangent.  So what does this squish-ball/ray-of-light/bio-puzzle look like?  And what social network does it frequent?  Start-up entrepreneurs and venture capital firms want to know.  Are you friends with The Mind?  Yes, we're in constant contact!  Too constant! 

Do we sense the mind, feel it, hear it, smell it or just imagine it to exist?  Exist?  Who said it exists?  Well, ok, I guess I've inherited that belief.  And if it exists, what form and shape is it in?  Or do these forms and shapes change?  Whoa, chill out Sheldon, just be...remember your Buddhism; breathe and catch your breath (another phrase worth exploring at some future point!).  

So if thinking exists in, or as a part of the mind, and I can't locate my mind, does this mean that thinking doesn't exist?  Bingo!  And if thinking doesn't exist, then rationality and its objective elements of invented realities don't exist.  Second bingo.  So then only bingo exists?  Bingo.  Now we're getting somewhere.  Well, actually no, because somewhere doesn't exist either.  It went with everything, nothing and now and then. 

You have to retain something to acknowledge nothing.  But is Bingo something?  You can't take everything away.  Well I guess I can part with everything, since Bingo is so all-encompassing.  And it's a BIG relief to remove the stress of having to account for everything, to handle everything, and to call everything something.  Something is definitely gone too!  And good riddance.  I've hated something for years.  I've dreamed about getting rid of that too, but that's a hard one to get rid of.  I may try a surprise sleep-mission extraction tonight to get rid of that.

But what if I yearn for a little Zingo every now and then.  Zingo?  Yes, I've discovered that Zingo is the mind of Bingo.  But since everything doesn't exist and everything includes now and then, and they're both gone, then I'm really only left with a confirmed ability to use Bingo.  I may try to locate the existence of Zingo one day, but it won't be easy.  Bingo wil be hard to catch off-guard.  I could try to replace Bingo with a new acknowledgement term, but then if Bingo wouldn't exist, I'm not sure I'd recognize the new word to acknowledge that everything doesn't exist.  I'm keeping Bingo just in case.  

You see, Bingo is not only an acknowledgement of a moment in time, it establishes that time doesn't exist.  But you knew that already, right?  Time was invented by Hollywood writers to formulate scripts for human existence, and to fight off evil film critics before they ate up all the craft service.  Who do film critics think they are?  The mind of Hollywood?  Bingo. Now we're looping closer to a theory of Bingo-Zingo mind.  

Actors so far: You + Story people x Critical Self-Deprecating Awareness + Stuck in the past = Reality we call The Mind.  

Whew, got that into a semi-workable formula, and just in time too: everything was trying to return and bring something, now and then and possibly even mind itself back into the picture.  Damn that mind, it's everywhere and nowhere all at once!  So Sheldon is upset with the notion that a thing called mind is following him around in a shadowy, weird kind of stalker way!  Bingo.