Both reading and writing keep the mind from wandering. They constrain the mind to a reasoned path. But every pause in either reading or writing lets the mind wander again and again. Keeping it on its path requires both attention and effort, for reasoning is not among the mind’s fortes. Left to its own devices, it dashes hither and thither. Snippets of thought become intermingled with images and sounds, tastes and smells, as well as a wide spectrum of emotions. Reading is easier to sustain because it requires less attention and effort than writing. The text is already there. It has a beginning and an end, as well as a trodden path between the two. When writing is going well, it constrains the mind more than reading, but writing sometimes goes pretty poorly. If this is the case, there are many more pauses in writing than in reading, and the mind goes berserk every once in a while. But when neither reading nor writing is attempted, it is very hard to keep the mind from wandering. Reasoning in silence is hard to maintain without disruptive pauses. Speaking one’s thoughts aloud helps, but only up to a point. Every pause lets the mind wander one more time. Bringing the mind to a full stop is the hardest, though. Having not a thought or sensation or emotion is very difficult to achieve, and especially over a protracted period. Which is why the joy of mindlessness is tremendous. The longer one manages to be rid of one’s mind, the greater the joy. One’s eyes half closed, one stares into the distance. And the mind is as good as dead. Unadulterated bliss.