Soon as you walk out the door, there's grass

See this right now, as it's happening? I mean, wherever your mind is right now. Not the thing you see, but your actual awareness of it. Where the rubber meets the road, as they say in the US. The coal face, as they say in the UK. See that? What is it? Do you have any idea what that is? (Be honest, now.) Do you have any more idea than a rabbit, as the saying goes? Do you have any way of thinking about what is immediately there? Even any time to think about it before something else takes its place?

I'd say you can take mind for granted because it is granted. If the inconceivably fine balance of everything in the universe weren't supporting your experience, it wouldn't be there at all, not for an instant. "So what?" You might ask -- "If I understand that, what then?" Well, if you get in the habit of recognizing what is granted, that is to say, everything you are aware of, everything you think, every conceivable experience of your mind and body -- in brief, your entire amazing, unsatisfactory, and constantly changing world -- you might not feel so tired of it, or so personally responsible for it, or so inadequate to it. It might not feel so cheap or isolated or disappointing or boring or painful. You might not feel such a strong need to look for meaning or magic or status somewhere else, and maybe cause other people or animals to suffer in your pursuit. You might not need to distinguish so mercilessly between those who matter and those who don't. Of course, if you're just having a ball, or have great hopes or ambitions, you might not wish to concern yourself with such things. But how long do you expect that to last? (Be honest, now). Even if you win, what will become of you and your world? How much grass will you trample looking for a green field?