Part I

The Mechanism
The mental body is not the brain. Shaped like a hat, it exists on the mental plane and sits about two inches above the head. Some have broad, sombrero-like rims, while others have cropped rims that flip downward in the back. Their texture is like woven neural threads. Each is unique in size and design.

We accept the thoughts of the mental body as "me" talking. "My thoughts sure do *sound* like me. . . ." That's why we identify with and trust them so readily. ("If I can't trust my thoughts, who [or what] can I trust?") We are not, however, these animated data. Instead, we are points of conscious light, inhabiting material bodies. Some believe that when we say, "I am not my thoughts," we are in denial. If, however, we really are not our thoughts, then denying this is denial. Another approach is to identify with both the mental body *and* with spirit. When the physical body dies, the mental body dies too, but the spiritual body lives on. Using this approach, we must say, "a little part of me dies"; existence takes on a country and western flair.

Similarly, some say that by not identifying with our thoughts we shirk responsibility. Are we, however, responsible for the hunger pang that our physical body feels, or is it the nature of the physical body to become hungry? Are we responsible for wanting someone to love us, or is it the nature of the emotional body to want love? The question is, are we responsible for the way that our bodies naturally function. (They have their own agenda, usually based on survival.) As points of conscious Light inhabiting these vehicles, we play a balancing game. We allow the bodies to function quite freely. We watch them, listen to them, guide them, and enlighten them. This is the process of mastery. It effectively serves in the Spiritualization of Matter.

Limitations
The mental body thinks in 3-D. Despite what anyone tells it - including God itself - it will create a third-dimensional picture. That's why this perceptual instrument has difficulty grasping other-dimensional realities.

For example, when we dream, our astral body sends back information from the astral plane. We see much weirdness: rubber-like telephones, cars with square tires - you know the scenes. Yet, phones and cars don't exist on the astral plane. The mental body translates astral (fourth-dimensional) patterns into familiar (though distorted) third-dimensional images. It processes information from all dimensions in that way. If we expect the mental body to answer transcendental questions about life, expect the answers to be lacking. The universe is, at heart, a paradox, which linear minds, by their nature, cannot grasp.

Ironically, the mental body sells us the illusion that it somehow knows "how it is." By stringing together beads of logic, it designs a pattern and calls it "Truth." Because logic can hypnotize us, we mistake these word patterns for reality. Oh, well.

Here's a parable. Imagine a child leaning on the rail of a boat. Adrift in the middle of an ocean, the boy studies the ripples as they glide across the surface. He is confident that he knows the true nature of this vast body: "The ocean is made of ripples, that's all." He remains unaware of the rich world that lives beneath its surface. (Something odd happens if we take this parable, flip it over, grab it by the edges and stretch it. The ocean transforms into the universe - an ocean of light - that is composed of light ripples throughout. The boy, having transformed into a girl, says, "The ocean is made of ripples, that's all.")

Part II

The Care and Feeding of Our Friend the Mental Body
If we are practicing "positive thinking," we lay an extra burden on our friend. Mental bodies produce both positive and negative thoughts. "Positive thinking" is like mental martial law - only good thoughts can walk the streets without having the brain police accost them. Accenting duality, this practice increases the power of negative thoughts, by granting them enemy status. Under less strained conditions, these feisty loiterers would leave peacefully without a fight.

At times, our bio-computer produces odd, disturbing, or unproductive ideas; programming glitches do happen. (This doesn't include ideas that lead us to explore the darker aspects of Mortal Consciousness or any other area from which we could benefit.) For a quick fix, try this. When a suspect thought arises, run an integrity scan on it. Does this data stream increase contribute to living a miraculous life? If not, then stamp the thought with the mental rubber stamp labeled "Pass." (Short for, "I'll pass on this one. Thanks for the suggestion.") Continue with your life. We don't have to be a slave of the mental body.

More dastardly intrusions can occur: The Dark Forces can covertly infect our bio-computer with "viruses." These destructive programs suggest questionable courses of action. They fester doubt. They present full screen, living color pictures of, say, how your partner is really against you, and why didn't you notice how bad he was all along? Use the "Delete" stamp in these instances, and let them go.

Conclusion The planetary consciousness has lent each of us a mental body. If we treat our friend with respect, then it will serve us well. Meditating is a good practice. It helps keep the mental body toned, focused, and centered. Intellectual exchange and study expand it. Love your friend; let it operate without stress.

The function of the mental body is to produce thoughts. We are not these thoughts. Detaching ourselves from its internal monologue/dialogue is not easy. The more we succeed, however, the more clearly we will see the silent perspective of the Watcher - our true self.