" The mind is impermanent, transitory, changing from moment to moment. Thus it is an effect, a result, the product of causes and conditions. The main cause of a mind is necessarily a previous moment of mind. Causes and their results must be the same type of phenomena, so it's not possible for mind, a non physical phenomenon, to arise or be produced from a physical material phenomenon such as the body, just as it's not possible for fire to be produced by water. Also the mind is a series of ever changing moments, each necessarily the result of a previous moment, so how could it have a beginning in time? [like a brain].
Some people hold that the mind is the brain or activity in the brain. But as defined here, the mind is the experiences themselves - how can thoughts and feelings be physical? If they were scientists studying someone's brain should be able to see them, but that is not the case. They can know WHEN a person is thinking, but not WHAT they are thinking. The mind depends upon the brain and the nervous system, but cannot BE the brain.
Nor can one's mind be derived from the minds of others, such as one's parent’s bodies. Our body came into existence from parts of our parent’s bodies (sperm and egg) but our mind is a non physical phenomenon, and arises in a completely different way. It's not possible for a part of one mind to break off and become a new mind. Also if our mind did come from our parents minds, then wouldn't we be born with all their memories and knowledge? This is clearly not the case. Our present personality, knowledge and experiences are necessarily the result of our own past experiences and actions. Our mind, therefore, comes from its own previous continuity." ~ Venerable Sangye Khadro
The artist's dilemma and the meditator's are, in a deep sense, equivalent. Both are repeatedly willing to confront an unknown and to risk a response that they cannot predict or control. Both are disciplined in skills that allow them to remain focused on their task and to express their response in a way that will illuminate the dilemma they share with others. And both are liable to similar outcomes. The artist's work is prone to be derivative, a variation on the style of a great master or established school. The meditator's response might tend to be dogmatic, a variation on the words of a hallowed tradition or revered teacher. There is nothing wrong with such responses. But we recognize their secondary nature, their failure to reach the peaks of primary imaginative creation. Great Art and Great Dharma both give rise to something that has never quite been imagined before. Artist and meditator alike ultimately aspire to an original act.
--Stephen Batchelor, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, Vol. IV, #2 from Everyday Mind, a Tricycle book edited by Jean Smith
My son turned 13 last August and it has been the greatest thrill in my life to watch him grow year by year, noting every inch and pound, witnessing to the ways his mind has opened wider as he matures. Each milestone has been pure joy. We have been such inseparable buddies, both fascinated by the aspects of life the other had the better insights into. I taught him to tie a shoe, he helped me to a renewed appreciation of watching ants, I encouraged his early frustrations with his drawings, he showed me the benefits of taking the slow methodical hike in the Superstition Mountains, turning every stone of interest, enjoying the getting there more than the push for speed. A six year old child who would ask to watch the movie Kundun, the story of the Dali Lama, I remember the earnest tears he shed for days on end at the passing one of his first pets, a walking stick from Australia he dubbed "Spikey".